What If I Loved You?
by WorkInProgress08
Summary: EC. CSI Miami Fan Fiction Challenge. Post Season 6. Calleigh and Eric are sent to a conference in Quantico; but when they are thrown head-first into a case, it's more than just a murder that gets resolved... Complete
1. Hard Day's Night

**CSI MIAMI FAN FICTION CHALLENGE:**

More information can be found in the profile. But, basically, 12 different authors are writing this story - we have one chapter each.

**- - -**

**Date:** May 21, 2008  
**Author:** Kazalene  
**Beta'd by:** lostladyknight  
**Three Elements to include:**  
**1.** Eric must sing  
**2.** Must be a mention of palm trees  
**3.** Horatio must spill coffee over himself

**- - - **

**Contains spoilers for All in/Ambush, Down to the Wire and Going Ballistic - Season 6 pretty much. At least the EC side of things anyway!**

Okay, I'm hoping that this is going to be enough to kick start this project. And it really was a bum to write. I wanted to throw us straight into the action 'cause a fifteen hour road trip would have been _so _boring to read, as well as to write actually :P.

* * *

**Chapter One: Hard Day's Night**

* * *

The lime green and palm tree decorated wallpaper fluoresced even in the dark, staring back at the two souls who watched it from two different sides. It was slapped over the wall that separated their adjacent rooms, acting as a solid and symbolic barrier between the two people; both of them weighted down with the thoughts of one another, both of them well aware that sleep was not going to come easily tonight...

Eric Delko sighed deeply as he sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to shake away the thoughts that had been plaguing him for most of the night. Although, when he thought about it, those thoughts had been there longer than that; he couldn't remember the last time that Calleigh Duquesne _hadn't_ graced his mind, and after taking a moment to glance over at the time - 02:03 - he flopped himself back down onto his pillows.

As he closed his eyes and attempted to fall asleep for what must have been the hundredth time that night, his mind took him back to a conversation that he'd had with her a few days ago. Six days in fact.

Stetler had sidelined Calleigh and whilst it hadn't entirely been Eric's fault, the... _checklist _that he had dropped had hardly helped her. If only Cooper hadn't have posted that video of her finding it on the internet...

No. He didn't want to go there again. Calleigh's kidnapping had scared him so badly and forced him to realise how much he really did need her. So badly, in fact, that he had told her - in their own special ambiguous way of course - taking care not to cross that greyed line in their friendship.

So he had taken her home, sat with her for a while; _just been there._ And then that had been that. They had gone back to their bubbles of indifference; so much left unsaid and not likely to _ever be_ said.

At least that's what he had thought until six days ago when he had confronted her about why she hadn't told Stetler the truth. The truth about the crime scene note that _he_ was responsible for...

**_/EC/_**

_"Okay," she sighed. "About the sheet, here's the thing," she swallowed as she decided how best to broach the subject. "After you were shot you came back to work pretty fast, and maybe it was too fast - " She took a moment to breathe. "And I guess that I was just so happy that you were okay that I didn't say anything and I probably should've - "_

_"Say anything about what?" he cut in, a little scared about where she was going with this._

_"Well, are you okay?" She held his gaze, trying to get across to him how sincere her words were._

_He remained silent, just merely inhaled and exhaled a few steady breaths; not quite sure how to answer her question because truthfully? He'd be lying if he said he was; some days were good, other's not so much._

_"We never talk about it. _You_ never talk about," she pushed, her green eyes locked with his dark ones; trying to penetrate through that barrier of indifference that they had put up around one another._

_The silence resumed as he struggled to say the words that he had kept hidden for far too long, words that he'd suppressed for fear of looking... weak. He knew that he should give her more credit; Calleigh's faith in him would never falter no matter what he did. They had been through too much together. And her presence always seemed to have a calming effect on him; gave him his professional confidence back._

_But, that didn't stop how _he_ felt about himself and his gaze fell to the floor as he slowly mustered up the courage he needed to open up to her. "It's a process..." he began, lifting his eyes back to hers, "and the medication helps. And therapy helps - " He paused, taking a moment to gauge her reaction. "And I make a few little notes here and there and that helps."_

_She stared back at him, silently letting him know how much she appreciated him telling her that. And realising that it was her turn to speak, she sat up a little and took a deep breath. "Okay, well, I have to say something." She paused, suddenly very aware about what she was trying to tell him; she needed to say it, however, needed to get it out in the open. And so after a quick glance at the floor and some silent encouragement from her sub-conscious, she slowly allowed herself to meet his gaze again. "Because I feel for you and you know that," she murmured softly, her accent coming through a little stronger than usual with the rawness of her words. "But if one memory lapse allowed a killer to go free - "_

_"I would've turned in my badge a long time ago and _you_ know that," he cut in, a little sharply. "I'm retraining my brain, Calleigh, but I know how to do my job."_

_"What about the cheat sheet?"_

_He sighed, his frustration evident in the way he opened his palms. "Why does everyone keep calling it that?" He watched as she diverted her gaze, clearly uncomfortable about what they were talking about. But now that _she_ had brought it up, he wasn't going to let her detach and build that barrier back up. So as she started to fiddle with her bag he began again, "Work isn't a test that you take; it's something that you do right every time. So what if I take a few notes? Now would it make you feel better to know that I've never consulted them? Not _once!_"_

**_/EC/_**

He had stopped then. He had seen the guilt in her eyes for allowing herself to doubt him and, despite himself, despite the valid points that he had given her, he couldn't help but feel bad. And his eyes flew open as his mind began to play what had perhaps been the most significant part of their conversation.

As far as he'd been concerned, if anyone should've felt guilty it should have been him. It was his mistake that had got her into that mess - at least partly, anyway - and so he had told her that he would go to Stetler and confess.

She had told him not to, though. Had put herself on the line to protect him and told him to find another way to catch their killer; _"Do that, instead. For us."_

_For us_. Those two little words that had suddenly sounded more like a never-ending dissertation or a poem with enjambment...

He sat up again and released a sigh of frustration because, yes, she had admitted something to him that day. Had uncharacteristically taken a step across that greyed line. But still nothing had progressed.

Or had it?

Three days after said admittance, Calleigh's bad luck had struck again and their case had nearly been compromised when an old bullet discharged and set fire to her lab. All he'd cared about, however, was whether she was okay; _'and thank God she was.'_ They'd shared another moment then; he'd gently reached out to take her hand. It was a simple gesture, one of reassurance, but she hadn't pulled away. Had squeezed it back, in fact. And just for a moment, a wisp of a moment, those boundaries of hers had been disregarded and he'd felt something; but then he _always_ felt something. And he was starting to think that she was slowly opening her eyes to it, starting to take tentative steps forwards as opposed to backwards...

But then what did he want from her?

He pinched the bridge of his nose when he realised that what he wanted was nothing that a sleepless night could solve; they were too close to take that step, had too much trust in each other to lose should something go wrong. These were _her_ reasons, of course, but he had to keep telling himself them; there was no way he could play by her rules otherwise. But maybe, just maybe, she was beginning to falter, too.

Because it was so hard.

Especially now, though. Now that a measly few centimeters of ghastly wallpaper and three inches of what was most likely plywood were all that separated him from her; at least physically, anyway. Emotionally, it was altogether a different story; more like a giant ocean with an ambiguous current.

But, still, there was no escaping that Calleigh Duquesne was in the room next to him, blissfully unaware of just how much he was thinking about her.

**_/EC_****/**

_'We work together,'_ Calleigh scolded herself. She wasn't quite sure how many times she had told herself that now, but she was pretty sure that if she thought it again then it was in serious danger of losing all effect on her. Eric was her friend, a friend she had absolute trust in. A friend she had strong feelings for and...

No. She needed to stop it. Thoughts like these were bad. Very bad. Besides, things were... _complicated._ And as much as she hated to admit it, she was scared of taking her relationship with Eric to the next level; there was the lab to think of, her responsibilities, their friendship, Eric's health...

Jake.

She suddenly felt a slight twitch in her chest as she realised that she had managed to close Jake out, whilst somehow letting Eric in; it wasn't fair to either of them.

After her kidnapping, she'd taken some time to do some reassessment and had forced herself to have 'the talk' with Jake. Had told him that she needed some time to sort things out; she had neglected to tell him, however, that Eric was included in said _things_.

But here she was, in a hotel room adjacent to Eric's, surrounded by her bubble of indifference.

And even though she had put her feelings out there to him - albeit only briefly and a little cryptically - nothing had been sorted. It wasn't just because of some incoherent reasons - or excuses - that prevented her from taking the final step that would place her well and truly over that line, but it also had something to do with that annoying little word known as _truth._

Because sometimes, when you finally tell it, it doesn't set you free... but locks you away. Forever.

Which is exactly what would happen because, _'we work together.'_

Her hands found her hair and she tugged at it as the statement popped into her mind again. She was just searching for excuses now, struggling to stay in control of her emotions. She hated that Eric could affect her like this; no one else could. And this, together with the thin wall that separated them, was making her feel uncharacteristically vulnerable.

Deciding that vulnerability was not something that she wanted to feel, she rolled over in her bed in the hope that if she could find a new comfortable position, then perhaps she could shut her mind off. And she allowed a smile to grace her lips when she found a nice little nook in the bed-sheets; _'at least that was something, right?'_

When Horatio had informed her that she was being sent to a conference in Quantico to learn about some new improvements for the lab, one of her first concerns had been the accommodation. She wasn't too fussed about room size, wallpaper - although if she was honest, it was ghastly - whether it had cable...

She couldn't care less. It was whether or not her bed would be comfortable.

And so after mentally thanking God that it was, she laughed bitterly into her pillow; realising how juxtaposed she was with herself. Physically comfortable, emotionally the furthest point from it.

Coming to Quantico would have been fine... if only Eric hadn't chosen to have entered the room when he had...

Horatio had been on his way to his office when he'd caught her in the break room and, noticing that it was empty, he had taken a moment to question her about Eric's well-being - because he was sending her off on said conference and needed to know whether Eric would be okay without her. It was something that had bothered her at the time, still did, in fact. She had feigned him off, of course; for some reason she felt like she had to protect Eric from anything and everything; even if it went against her better judgement. Which it often did.

The lieutenant's suspicions had obviously not been abated entirely, however, because when Eric had entered the break room and walked straight into their boss - causing Horatio to spill the cup of coffee that Calleigh had just handed him all over himself - he had told Eric to go with her.

It was a touchy subject - Eric's shooting - and it was one that everyone had danced around, including herself. Horatio had seemed to think that it would do Eric some good to get away; especially considering how quickly he had come back to work. And he had confided to Calleigh that it would give Eric the chance to indulge in a refresher course, should the man feel that he needed to.

But, Horatio had pretty much informed her that she had to hint at it _a lot_ while they were away...

The plane journey from Miami to Quantico had been relatively awkward free and until right now, she had thought that perhaps she had been a little silly to think that their mutual feelings for one another would cloud their time here. Their banter had been light and playful; the oh-so-typical way of conversation that they had adopted over the years... and then somehow lost. It had been comfortable and familiar, and had reminded her of how much she'd missed it.

She laughed when she remembered one of the exchanges they had shared on the plane; Eric had moaned that he would have preferred to have taken a hummer up here...

**_/EC/_**

_"A road trip would have been so much more fun," he whined. "We could have seen the sights."_

_"It's a fifteen hour drive, Eric!"_

_"Well, that's what gas stations and roadside cafés are for."_

_She laughed and took a moment to rummage around in the little pocket on the back of the seat in front of her, searching for a decent magazine to flick through. "What, so we could buy awful cups of coffee and risk catching hepatitis from the probably unclean toilet seats? Come on, Eric, it would have been horrible. No one likes being cooped up in a car for that long."_

_"Actually, I happen to like it," he challenged, wriggling about in his seat in an effort to get comfortable. "Driving is my release. All you need is a couple of good tunes, the windows rolled down, and you've got the world at your feet."_

_"So I would've had to have endured you serenading me the whole way here, then?" she joked as she began to flick through the magazine of her choice._

_"Less of the endured, thank you." He feigned mock insult. "You never know, you might have liked my voice," he teased._

_He laughed when she arched an eyebrow and reading it as a silent challenge, he glanced around looking for some inspiration. And when his gaze settled onto a passenger whose gender was a little on the ambiguous side, he knew he'd found it._

_Then with a wicked grin and a quick gesture over to said passenger, he began to sing:_

_"Love put me wise to her love in disguise,_

_ She had the body of a Venus,_

_ Lord, imagine my surprise!"_

_Calleigh widened her eyes and reached out to cover his mouth, but he gently pushed her away and just managed to belt out, __"(that, that) Dude looks like a lady!"__ before her hand was back. "What, you don't like Aerosmith?" he grinned against her palm, only for her to clamp down harder in response._

_Satisfied that she had silenced him, she flashed a polite smile at the passenger in question and tried her hardest to shoot Eric a glare; she would have succeeded, too, if it hadn't been for the small smile that tugged at her mouth..._

**_/EC/_**

That same smile that was there now. Playing incessantly about her lips like it knew damn well that she didn't want it there, but was determined to hold on just to spite her.

So it was with a wistful sigh, and a slight shift of her body under the bed covers, that she finally resigned herself to the fact that at some point during their time here, she was going to have to deal with her situation with Eric. She refused to let it get in the way of why they were here, however.

No, they were here for a conference that CSI's from all over had been sent to. They were here for work purposes only.

Which is why she had to murder those butterflies that she got every time Eric was around her. _And_ why she had to stop glancing over at that hideously floral wallpaper that separated her room from his.

Because the best way to avoid dangerous thoughts, was to not think about them at all...

* * *

**Next Author:** lostladyknight

**Chapter post date:** 25th June.


	2. The Beauty of Uncertainty

**Date written:** May 28, 2008  
**Author**: lostladykight  
**Beta'd by:** marymagdalen  
**3 Elements to include:**  
**1.** Lost sock  
**2.** Chinese takeaway,  
**3.** Someone's favorite book.

A/N:  
Okay everyone this was my first ever attempt at CSI Miami fanfiction and the only time I've ever even thought about Calleigh or Eric's characterization. If I did poorly, TELL ME. If I didn't, well, neat. I really hope you all like the way it flows with Kaz's chapter and that you all enjoy the story so far. I can't wait to see what the rest of you have in store for this story! This is Soo fun.

-LLK

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**Chapter Two:** **The Beauty of Uncertainty**

* * *

**Duquesne**

Calleigh rolled over when the shrill sound of the hotel phone started blaring at her from only two feet away. She smacked the putrid yellow-cream nicotine stained phone to the floor with a harsh jab of the palm of her hand and rolled back over, pulling the free pillow near her right arm over her head to muffle any further sound. The solace only lasted a few minutes before the annoying tone of a phone off of its cradle met her ears. This time, still only half aware of what was going on around her, she swung her leg down and kicked the machine. Its cries didn't stop and all she achieved was a sharp pain in her big toe. With a violent huff she slumped down off the bed and righted the phone, tucking it gently back onto the bedside table behind her.

"You better not try that again," she warned the machine as she pushed herself back into her bed, burrowing in the sheets.

Then in a flash the realization hit her. _It was a wake up call. She had to get up and start getting ready for the seminar. Eric would be waiting. Shit._ She fumbled through the sheets, comforter, and pillows until she found her iPhone. Sliding her fingers across the screen she grumbled when she saw that it was locked. Her index finger running along the bottom of the display and then tapping gently, she glanced at the time when the phone finally decided to comply.

She had exactly seven minutes to get ready; her fight with the hotel phone had set her back further than she realized. Reaching up, she ran her fingers through her hair and then pulled the hair band she'd slept with on her wrist around it, stringing it into a loose pony-tail. Then she fumbled through the sheets one final time for the socks she had shed while she was sleeping. Tucking them onto her feet, she winced as she struck the place on her formerly perfectly manicured big toe nail that she'd damaged a few minutes before. _Great. She was going to spend the whole day on her feet and by the end of it, that toe was going to be throbbing._

As she slipped out of her bed she realized that the phone had taken her book along with it as it had fallen to the floor earlier. She frowned down at it sadly and then picked it up. Double checking to make sure that she'd finished it she shoved it under her pillow. She didn't want to take a chance on anyone seeing her with a Harlequin Romance novel in her possession.

She reached for her phone and carried it to the bathroom with her. Setting it on the back of the toilet she scrolled through the songs and started playing it from the place in her library she'd left off. _The Beauty of Uncertainty_ by KT Tunstall. Calleigh wandered around the hotel room gathering different items that she'd need to start her day as she quietly hummed along with the music.

The water in the shower was running, heating up, and filling the whole bathroom with a hot suffocating steam, just the way she liked it. As she waited for the shower to get to that dangerously high temperature that always left her a little-too-pink for an hour after she'd washed, she brushed her teeth. Naturally it was while she was in mid brush that her phone decided to serenade her with an unpleasant change in song.

"_Dude looks like a lady,"_ it sang at her in a shrill tone and she glared at it.

The gadget, however, was persistent. It took her a few moments, as she continued to brush vigorously before the idea hit her, _Eric_. He must have changed the ring-tone the previous night at dinner. She'd left him alone with it when she went to the restroom. She knew he'd find a way to pay her back for making him get Chinese takeout with her, but she'd had a craving for those crunchy fried noodles and wanton soup.

She was fatigued and she knew it. That was the reason she was so annoyed at him for his prank. She reminded herself again, she was _tired_, she wasn't really _angry_, it was _funny_, and then tapped the screen to her phone and pulled it to her ear. "Hey Eric."

"You ready?" His tone was all-too-chipper and it sent a chill down her spine. "We have to be down in the main lobby to sign in in three minutes. I knocked on your door but you didn't answer. I have coffee."

She could hear the smirk on his lips as he teased her with those final three words. "I got a late start. I'm gonna grab a quick shower and I'll be down. Do you mind signing me in?"

"Alright," he told her, this time the tone of his voice lower, gentler, huskier, all in one. Another, different, chill ran down her spine. "I'll keep my phone on, if you don't spot me right away when you get down there just give me a call."

"Thanks Eric," she spoke through a smile. "I'll be down as soon as I can."

She hadn't waited to see if he was going to reply, she simply tapped the screen of her phone, ending the call. She shifted through the song list on her phone for a moment and then started the song _Paper Aeroplane_ over again. Running the toothbrush over her teeth a few more times she rinsed her mouth and then began shedding clothes to get into the shower. She stood beside the steaming hot shower and snaked her hand around the curtain to feel the flow of water. The pressure was pounding and the temperature was scalding. She withdrew her hand, shook it free of the water droplets, and then played it in her hair, removing the band. Shaking her hair free of tangles once, Calleigh stepped into the shower.

**Delko**

Eric flipped his phone closed but before he had time to tuck it into the pocket of his jeans, he had to pull it to his mouth, turning his hand so the back of it grazed his lips a bit; he yawned deeply. Lowering his hand when he finally managed to stop involuntarily yawning, he slid the phone safely into his pocket. As another yawn got the best of him he used his other hand to tame it. The feeling of something foreign rubbing against his lip made him smile, just a bit; he was holding a cup of coffee and since Calleigh wasn't going to be out of the shower before it went cold, he reasoned it would be a waste if he didn't drink it.

The awful stale taste of day-old coffee was an assault on his taste buds. He almost cringed as he shook his head to avoid the taste of it. It was only seven in the morning, not quite even, how could it already be that stale? His CSI skills showing their use in everyday life, he decided that they must have reheated the pot from the previous day. _Disgusting_.

Coffee wasn't _always_ pleasant tasting, he reminded himself as he stepped onto the elevator that would take him down to the main floor. But it _could be_, and this definitely wasn't pleasant tasting coffee. He took another sip, forcing himself to consume what of the caffeine in it he could. He shuddered again at the putrid taste; no matter how tired he was he couldn't do it. It was too foul.

He was grateful when the elevator slowed to a stop and the doors opened, and he saw that there was a trash bin just outside. He tossed the coffee in without another thought. Looking around the lobby that spread out before him, from face to face at unknown colleagues, he realized that he was overtired. The tingly feeling he felt in his arms and legs reminded him that he would be ping-ponging between states of heightened awareness and total lethargy for the rest of the day.

Eric had to suppress the urge to grumble as he made his way through the crowd looking for the sign-in table. It wasn't as though he'd been expecting Cafe Cubano or anything, but couldn't the hotel supply its guests with a decent, hot, caffeinated beverage in the morning? People didn't wake up that early for fun, people who were alive at that hour had _something_ to do, they needed something to help them _function._ He supposed that given the time of year not quite being the peak of travel season they had to cut edges off of their budget somewhere. But with the coffee? Couldn't they have skimped on the toilet paper or something?

He pushed his way to the sign-in desk and flashed the girl sitting behind it a smile. "Eric Delko and Calleigh Duquesne, Miami-Dade."

"I'll need a valid state-issued ID from both of you," the girl stated, giving Eric a wink, "your badge numbers, and the room number you're staying in."

"206 and 208," he mentioned to her, giving their adjacent room numbers first. "I've never been asked for my badge number to sign in to one of these things before." This time he winked at her. "And I'll show you a copy of my ID but can my colleague bring hers to you a little later?"

"Just keeping you on your toes, Officer Delko," the girl grinned at him again. How old was she, sixteen? She shouldn't be in such an important position at that age. "Just sign your names on the line and then fill in the date and time boxes next to them. Sign up for any special seminars you might be interested in attending down below."

"CSI Delko," he corrected her. Penning his and Calleigh's names in the appropriate boxes and filling in the information that was required, he signed them up for two courses. One was a weapons specialization course, described as the latest in firing and ammunition technologies; Calleigh would be interested in it, at least. The other was a course in the development, use, and implementation of a new crime scene sketching device that eliminated the need for human artistry, something he would personally love to have at the lab's disposal.

Becoming increasingly more aware of his bad mood and tiredness, Eric wandered away from the irritating teenager and started to scope out the rest of the seminar-goers. In the lobby with him at the moment were approximately sixty or seventy other people, all different grades of law-enforcement officials from around the country. They all looked almost _too_ happy to be there, broken off into various sizes of cheerily chattering clusters. It was unnatural for that many people to be in a good mood this early in the morning; it irked him, making his bad mood edge to the surface a bit more.

He needed coffee but he didn't dare sample the stuff the hotel was offering a second time. He was almost ready to wander around the hotel looking for the restaurant that they boasted about in advertisements around the whole place when his phone rang. Looking at the name on the screen as he clicked it open to answer it, he saw that it was Calleigh.

"All clean and ready to go?" he asked without even giving the traditional greeting. "Where are you? I don't see you by the elevator."

He almost met his forehead with the palm of his hand sharply as he realized what he was doing. His tone was falsely excited. Surely even if Calleigh had gotten more sleep than he had, which he didn't doubt she did, she wouldn't be interested in a chipper companion for the rest of the day.

"I'm by the main entrance," her voice told him. Her voice was low but sounded a little fresher than it had when he'd spoken to her earlier. "There's a table set up over here with doughnuts and coffee, want me to grab you something?"

"No-no," he said amusedly as he moved through the crowd towards her. Stepping up next to her he closed his phone with one hand while using the other to take the cup of coffee she was holding from her. The funny sensation from where his hand grazed hers lingering as he spoke. "Trust me, you don't want to even go there. It's a good two days old."

* * *

**Next Author:** marymagdalen  
**Next Chapter Post Date: **29th June

And so the conference begins...


	3. One More Cup of Coffee

**Date Chatper Written:** June 04, 2008  
**Author:** marymagdalen  
**Beta'd by:** Adorelo  
**Three Elements to include:**  
**1.** Broken glass  
**2.** An inappropriate comment  
**3.** Calleigh laughing at someone/something

OK, here's Chapter 3. Please let me know what you think. And in case you're wondering, the title - One More Cup of Coffee - is a Bob Dylan song. Enjoy.  
Leni

* * *

**Chapter Three: One More Cup of Coffee**

* * *

Eric woke with a start and a loud grunt as Calleigh's elbow made contact sharply with his upper arm. He sat up rubbing the place where a bruise was probably already forming, and looked around the room, feeling somewhat embarrassed by the censorious looks that he was getting from some of the other conference delegates. Calleigh was sitting beside him trying not to burst into a fit of giggles.

He scribbled on his notepad and angled it so that Calleigh could read it. She had got so used to Eric's scrawling handwriting that she had no trouble deciphering the message: _I am sooo bored_! She took the pad from his hand and wrote in her own small, neat hand: _I noticed. You were SNORING!_ She handed the pad back to Eric, and he laughed at the note, drawing more disapproving glances from their neighbours.

Eventually, after what seemed like hours, the lecture ended, and the Miami CSI's made their escape.

"Oh, thank God for that!" Calleigh sighed, lifting her face to the warm sunshine, and closing her eyes against the mid-morning glare. "I thought he was never going to let up!"

The combination of a long journey, a sleepless night and a one-and-a-half-hour long keynote speech was never going to make for the most stimulating start to a conference. And it had been a particularly tedious keynote speech. The subject itself was interesting - anthropological criminology, and the relationship between criminality and social background; the trouble was the speaker.

Dr. Aubrey Pender was a Professor in criminal psychology at Oxford University, England; and while he may well have been one of the most eminent scientists on the planet, he was possibly also one of the most monotone, dull scientists they had ever come across - and Eric and Calleigh had both met some pretty mind-numbing scientists! While most of the audience had sat through his speech enthralled, hanging upon the great man's every word, it was all the two tired CSI's could do to keep their eyes open and their minds on the job in hand.

Eric sat down beside her on the low wall that ran along the front of the conference building. They sat together for a few minutes enjoying the sunshine until Calleigh broke the silence between them. "Oh God, I need some coffee," she said with a sigh. "What's next on the programme? You think anyone'll notice if we play hooky?"

"Well," Eric began, unfolding a crumpled piece of paper and perusing it, "there's a couple of seminars running, but I didn't sign us up for them. I didn't think you'd be interested in bug DNA." He smiled as Calleigh shuddered; he was quite well aware of her dislike of all things creepy-crawly. "Or Forensic Pal... Pale... o-graph-y."

"What the hell's that?" Calleigh looked as bemused as Eric.

"Exactly! Let's go find a decent cup of coffee. We can be back in time for lunch at one."

**/-/-/**

"You want decent coffee?" The waitress placed two steaming cups of coffee on the table. "You got decent coffee!" She remained by the table, her now empty tray balanced on one hand, her other hand on her hip, and the look she gave them challenged them to taste her offering and dare to say otherwise.

It certainly smelled good. Eric was first to pick up his cup and sip the rich, strong drink as Calleigh watched him keenly, her eyebrows raised in an unspoken question. Eric's face lit up and his mouth broke into a wide grin.

"Now that is a decent cup of coffee!"

The waitress gave them both an 'I told you so' look, and tapped the table with her fingertips. It was the best cup of coffee in Quantico, and she knew it - as did all her customers. Her tone of voice implied sheer stupidity on their part for doubting it. "Damn right it's a decent cup of coffee!" And with that she turned and walked away to serve another customer.

A couple of brightly coloured tourist brochures were propped between the salt and pepper shakers on the table. Eric and Calleigh took one each, and perused the sights of Quantico and the surrounding area while enjoying their coffee.

They read in silence until... "'Chop-a-wam-sic Creek'! What kind of a name is that?" Eric muttered to himself as he skimmed the brochure's bulleted headings.

"It's from an old Algonquian language," Calleigh replied without looking up. "It means 'isolated lodge'."

Eric stared at his companion in disbelief. How the hell would she know something like that? Calleigh wondered whether she ought to tell him that it was written further down the page if he only looked, but decided with a private smile that it wouldn't do any harm at all to let him think instead that she really did know everything!

"I wonder if we'll have time to visit the National Cemetery," she wondered out loud.

"You want to visit Lowery's grave?" Eric was surprised that she would be bothered about such a thing.

"Lowery who?"

Now it was Eric's turn to be a smart ass! "Louis Lowery - the guy who photographed the flag-raising at Iwo Jima. Don't tell me you never heard of him?"

"No, it's just that my momma told me once that my great-great-uncle something is mentioned on a memorial there. I thought it might be fun to go find it."

"Fun? In a cemetery?" Eric laughed.

With a sigh, Calleigh put down the brochure, and leaned her elbows on the table between them. "You know, I feel bad about this," Calleigh said with a frown. At Eric's quizzical glance she continued, "Sitting here drinking coffee and looking at tourist brochures. I mean, we've only been here half a day, and we're ducking out already!"

"We've got a seminar later this afternoon, and a lecture this evening - and we're going to need to be well awake for that; it's the one Horatio wants us to take notes on."

"Oh, is that tonight? The one about computer forensics and standards of evidence admissible in a court of law?"

How does she do that? Eric wondered. Remembering things like that! I have trouble remembering what day of the week it is - but I guess a bullet in the brain will do that to you!

"Yeah, that's the one," he said with a smile. "He wants us to write a report on it. I guess that'll give us something to do on the plane home."

Calleigh smiled into her cup as she raised it to her lips. "If it stops you singing at the other passengers, I'll do anything!" And she took another drink of coffee. Putting down her cup, she continued, "No, but I was thinking, we really ought to make the most of our time here – brush up on some stuff, you know."

She was remembering Horatio's words to her in the break room before they left, encouraging her to help Eric get to grips once again with some of the things he'd lost after the shooting - a refresher course, he'd called it. _Well, Horatio, I'm doin' my best_, she thought.

Eric's face darkened and he frowned at his colleague. Calleigh felt her face flush, and she knew that, despite her trying to put on a casual air, Eric suspected her ulterior motives. He was remembering again last week's conversation.

Before he could say anything, Calleigh spoke again. "I just think we should try and get to as many sessions as we can and cover as much as we can while we have the opportunity, whether it's remembering or... re-learning." She chose the word carefully. "That's why Horatio sent us here, after all - so that we can both go back even better at our jobs."

"I guess so," Eric said with a sigh. He really didn't want to get into the whole discussion again, not right now. And he knew that Calleigh was right. "I tell you what, let's get back for lunch, then go to my room and take a good look at the programme, and sign up for some more seminars, OK?"

_A dangerous thing, Delko, inviting her to your room! At least last night there was plywood and wallpaper between you_. Eric could feel his neck glowing warm as he realised what he had just suggested.

_Damn these butterflies! You're supposed to have this under control, Calleigh. You know how things are - you work together, and this is definitely work, nothing more_. She noticed the flush of pink that had formed on Eric's neck, and felt her own cheeks begin to warm. She hid behind her cup, drinking the last mouthfuls of her second cup of coffee. Once she had calmed herself, she answered him saying, "it couldn't do any harm."

Well, they both knew that wasn't strictly true.

**/-/-/**

"That was a good lunch," Calleigh said as they got up to leave the dining room.

Eric laughed. "Yeah, at least the buffet hasn't been sitting around for two days like the coffee!"

"Eric!" Calleigh scolded. A member of staff was standing nearby and had overheard Eric's comment; she glared in his direction, not looking at all pleased at his criticism.

They headed up to Eric's room in the elevator to take a look at the programme for the rest of the conference.

"Oh, I don't know," Calleigh groaned, feeling exasperated. "There are a couple of seminars I really ought to go to, and none that I want to go to! And I really don't want to sit through another hour of Dr. Pender!"

She picked up a pen from the nightstand and took a deep breath. "OK," she began in a decisive tone. "I'm going to sign us up for... this one," she drew a circle around a heading on the programme, "this one," another circle, "and these two." She drew the final two circles with a flourish and tossed the pen back on the nightstand. "OK?"

Eric smiled, knowing by now that he had little choice in the matter once Ms. Duquesne had made up her mind. "Yes, ma'am!"

She got up from her seat on the edge of Eric's bed and headed for the bathroom. Eric remained where he was, seated on the other side of the bed, poring over the programme. He was concentrating hard, reading the mini-biography of the woman who would be leading that afternoon's session on the crime scene sketching device that he had signed them up for, when a loud crash from the bathroom made him jump.

"Calleigh?" he called, jumping to his feet and crossing the room in two strides. "Calleigh? Are you OK?"

The bathroom door opened, and Calleigh appeared, looking cross, and sucking the middle finger of her left hand.

"What did you do?" Eric asked. He took her hand, pulling her finger from her mouth as he did so, and inspected the cut that was still dripping blood. "It's not too deep. I don't think it'll need stitching."

There was silence between them for a moment. They were standing close, each barely breathing, their eyes locked.

"Eric," Calleigh breathed, barely a murmur.

Eric let out the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. "I think you'll survive!" He realized he was still holding Calleigh's hand, and with an embarrassed smile he comically stuck her bleeding finger back in her mouth, making her laugh too.

The tension broken, he asked again, "So what did you do?"

"Oh, I was straightening my hair in the mirror and knocked the glass off the shelf. It fell in the basin and smashed. I was trying to pick up the pieces when one of them got me." She took the finger out of her mouth again; it had just about stopped bleeding. _Great!_ she thought; _first my toe, and now my finger_.

"I think I have a Band Aid in my room." She glanced at her watch as she picked up her purse. "And then we'd better get going. The seminar starts in ten minutes."

* * *

**Next Author:** Adorelo

**Next Chapter Post Date:** 02/07/08


	4. Comfortably Numb

**Date Chapter Written:** June 11, 2008  
**Author:** Adorelo  
**Beta'd by:** Kazalene and bookworm45  
**3 Elements from:** bookworm45  
**1.** A Lake  
**2.** A Photograph  
**3.** Marisol

_AN: Thank you to **hayzemay** for her help with the forensics details.  
I'd like to state for the 'official record' that I had a really hard time with this chapter and the only reason it was finished on time was due to **Kazalene** blackmailing me with EC porn, ((nods)). But I enjoyed being a part of this project; thanks for your support, guys!_

**Edit from Kaz: Jodie is lying, I would never do such a thing. And if she allowed herself to be blackmailed by said EC porn, then that says more about her than me. But again, I hotly deny anything that she says. That is all.**

* * *

**Chapter Four: Comfortably Numb**

* * *

Calleigh gently clipped the pen to the top of her note book. Glancing over her shoulder to ensure Eric was behind her, she said, "you know, this one could be interesting. Computer Forensics has always fascinated me."

"I have trouble logging onto mine," Eric admitted. "Should give me some useful information." He picked two name stickers off the side and stuck a new one on himself. Scribbling Calleigh's name, he turned and stuck one to her shirt, not giving it a second thought until her eyes shot to his face. "Sorry," he muttered, a blush covering his cheeks. His heart cringed tightly. Crap. He'd just...

Don't go there, Delko. Their relationship was strained enough as it was; he didn't need to add the fact he'd just accidentally felt up her boob into the mix.

"It's alright," she drawled coyly. "But if you think you can feel me up in the lecture hall, you've got another thing comin'." With that she turned and walked assertively into the hall, not casting even a fleeting glance over her shoulder to ensure that Eric was behind her. She knew he would be.

Eric followed quickly, gulping at the innuendo she'd suddenly flung at him. He loved it when they bantered, but he was normally the one who heightened the sexual tension between them, and she the one who brushed it off. This sudden switch sent a bolt of intrigue through him and Eric wondered how long it would last.

Quickly finding two free seats near the wall of the lecture hall, Calleigh sat and dated the top of her page, entitling it _Computer Forensics_. She cast her eyes over, noting Eric lacked even a pen. "You intend to copy my notes for this report?" she teased, smirking internally as his blush deepened. Teasing him into submission was always something she enjoyed to do, but she rarely got a chance anymore; recent circumstances and events had more than dampened her relationship with Eric.

He shook his head. "I'm an auditory learner," he commented, eyebrows raised to support his argument. When he received nothing but a pointed look in response, he sighed, stating, "you'll see. When we get to writing it, I'll bet I remember more than you."

She gave a soft smile, shaking her head as the lights dimmed and the professor walked to the podium. Expecting the lecture to be incredibly boring, Eric settled back into his chair, listening half-heartedly as the man introduced himself as Professor William McCain.

The information he gave them was incredibly insightful. The standards of evidence admissible in court were now incredibly high, given the number of innocent convicts. He displayed photographs of crime scenes, stating, in each, what would no longer be considered evidence unless in context.

Eric tried to pay attention; the computer forensics side of the lecture was surprisingly interesting -- though he didn't learn how to do basic things -- and he realized just how often computer based evidence was used to secure a conviction. Although it was difficult to assign ownership to things on computers and online, it was becoming increasingly easier to identify from 'signatures' - similar to those used in explosives evidence. Every person has a signature; something unique about themselves they do online, be that typing patterns or lexis choice.

He spoke expressively about cookies and cache files, mentioning how important they could be in exposing actions and tracing information. The power point display on the back white wall showed images and document photocopies from various controversial cases in which Computer Forensic evidence was able to secure a conviction. Specifically, he focused on the case of Kupper v. State, 2004, where a defendant was convicted of four counts of aggravated sexual assault of a minor and was sentenced to thirty eight years for each count. In this case, the Professor explained, Computer Forensics was able to construct a clear image of the events that happened.

Shutting off the power point and leaving a pile of sheets on the lowest table, the professor left as quickly as he had came, inviting any questions to be directed to him outside, and offering free leaflets and forwarding email addresses for any specific queries.

Calleigh glanced to her watch as she walked down the steps, grabbing a few sheets from the side as she made it to the bottom; it was after seven and they'd not eaten since lunch. As they stepped into the cool night air, her stomach incessantly reminded her of that fact, complaining loudly as the potent smell of the catered food wafted through the air. "Ugh," she muttered. "Fancy finding a restaurant instead?"

Chuckling softly, Eric nodded. "Sure, you know the area?" Receiving a negative response, Eric shrugged, saying, "I think we can find a place."

**- - - **

The restaurant was small, cozy, and a few delicate pictures hung from the walls giving the area a welcoming feel. Several waitresses bustled around, speaking animatedly with the customers while taking their orders. The building was old in itself, but the old English cottage beams that stuck out of various parts of the ceiling gave a more period feel, and the woman seating the customers looked as though she'd come with the building! She stood just as tall and proud as the old house, long gray hair pulled back into a sweeping bun, a large smile formed naturally and her eyes held that twinkle of history.

Calleigh's eyes scanned the photographs behind Eric's head, which was buried in a menu. She took in the vision of bunches of painted flowers and serene lake scenes, photographs of young children playing happily by streams and lovers meandering sinuously over grass. The place was perfect.

She tore her gaze away from the pictures when a young waitress made her way over, focusing instead on the list of exquisite food before her. Choosing a chicken pasta, she set the sheet down, smiling to herself as Eric ordered a steak in peppercorn sauce -- as usual -- and a bottle of wine for them to share.

Waiting for the food to arrive, Eric studied his companion. The soft country-style lighting cast unusual shadows on her face, bringing out the green of her eyes and the slight hint of tiredness behind them - a touch of vulnerability he wasn't used to seeing there. Her fingers were closed softly around the water glass before her, her small wrist rotating in circles as she swirled her single ice cube.

"Hey, after dinner, fancy a walk some place?" Calleigh suddenly blurted, breaking into the easy silence. She caught his questioning glance and quickly added, "I know it's late and you're probably tired…"

Eric shook his head, moving his napkin out of the way as the waitress arrived with their food. "I'd like that," he replied before saying a quick, "thank you," to the waitress.

She smiled softly, eyes falling down to her meal. Truth was, she'd been wanting to spend some time alone with Eric for a while. A trip to Quantico wasn't really what she'd envisaged, but at least the distractions were limited. Though things were no longer particularly 'awkward' between them… things still weren't the same. Calleigh intended to change that. Ever the queen of omission, she'd skirted around the elephant in the room for long enough, ignoring the problems both she and Eric knew were there. Both ignored them for the sake of faking an understanding, an unspoken agreement. And Calleigh felt her chest constrict with fear at the thought of saying the things she wanted to.

But she wouldn't back down. Not this time.

**- - -**

A half-hour drive to the outskirts of The Medal of Honor Golf Club allowed them to meander through the courses, dodging wildlife and gazing at twinkling stars. Enjoying the view of the small illuminated lake at the marine corps base as they stuck to the coast side of the golf course, the pair exchanged anecdotes, laughing at embarrassing stories and strange situations.

Eric gave an embarrassed chuckle. "You should see the photos, my mother pinning me down while Marisol painted pink lipstick all over my face." He pressed his hands to his eyes. "Took me forever to get it off, and mom just kept taking pictures and pictures. Apparently it was cute."

"I'd like to see them," Calleigh said with a laugh. "I can only imagine. Sounds like Marisol, she always liked to tease you."

And just like that, the mood changed. His body tensed, eyes snapping to hers. Calleigh bit her cheek, drawing blood as she realized her chances of moving the light conversation onto their issues were gone. As she considered how selfish that was, she immediately turned her attention to the man before her. "Eric," she said quietly, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have - "

"No, it's fine," he cut her off. "It's been three years, Cal, I should be used to it." Eric gave a sigh, casting his eyes away from her as he leaned on a railing marking the edge of the course. Chopawamsic Island was beautiful from the mainland, sparkling serenely in the cold night air - the beauty of it a stark contrast to the melancholic direction their conversation had suddenly taken. Just then, Eric felt a hand on his arm, squeezing gently.

"No, you shouldn't," she pressed. "These things take time." He shook his head defiantly and she took hold of his hand, tugging his view from the coast to her. "Eric, your sister was murdered - " He tried to look away, effectively cutting her off. But this time, though, her hand found his cheek, pulling him back to look in her eyes. "It's only natural," she continued, "for you to be angry, for you to find it hard to talk about. You've been through a lot, Eric. Just know that I'm here for you."

Eric winced internally. Yeah, he'd been through a lot, but he could normally handle things better then this. Maybe it was the wine he'd consumed that was making everything seem more intense, but the memory of Marisol had cast a shadow of despair over his heart, and the slight tingles shooting up his arm from where Calleigh's hand was still pressed -- bare skin against bare skin -- did nothing to alleviate his state of confusion.

"I guess," he complied weakly. Unable to resist the pull of the woman before him, Eric flicked a few strands of hair over her shoulder and away from her face. "Thank you," he murmured, fingers still lightly paying with her locks.

Fighting waves of… something, Calleigh smiled widely, tilting her head to one side as she studied him intently. He _had_ been through a lot, and she kicked herself for not being as supportive as she could have been. Part of her felt she had let him down, her own insecurities and incapabilities holding her back from being the true friend she claimed to be. She'd told him she trusted him more times then she could count. But at no point had she showed it.

Pitching down a peg in her battle, she dropped her eyes, refusing to look at him as she moved closer, slipping her arms around his waist in a loose hug. Calleigh's breath hitched when he didn't respond right away, fear tightening her muscles as she faced the potential rejection she had been so terrified of. But when Eric's arms wound over her back, she felt those muscles relax, tension of a different kind flitting between them as they held each other close.

It was strange how normal it felt.

Because things were changing. Time and karma had done its work. She'd become comfortably numb with their situation - every hurt or trouble sending her farther into the very things she was trying to fight. Futile. It really was. Everything about Eric was magnetic; it was like resisting a hurricane. Impossible.

Calleigh glanced up to him, her chin resting on his chest. "Eric - " she breathed, voice shaking slightly with the intensity of her emotions. But she got no further with her speech.

From further in the golf course perimeter, a single gun shot reverberated from the trees, echoing in the now deathly silent air.

* * *

**Next Author:** bookworm45  
**Next Chapter Post Date:** 07/02/08


	5. Even The Nights Are Better

**Date Chapter Written:** June 18, 2008  
**Author:** citymusings  
**Beta'd by:** Zelda49  
**3 Elements from:** Zelda49  
**1.** The FBI  
**2.** A mosquito (or mosquitoes, plural)  
**3.** Russian word for 'Wife'

**A/N: Thank you so much, Zelda49, for all your help! You've been an awesome beta, you put so much work into this story, and I really appreciate it!**

**Title was taken from Air Supply's song, _Even the Nights Are Better._**

**AN2: Thank you to _Amelia_ for her help with the Russian decoding. **

* * *

**Chapter Five: Even The Nights Are Better**

* * *

_From further in the golf course perimeter, a single gunshot reverberated from the trees, echoing in the now deathly silent air._

Eric and Calleigh froze, each quickly un-holstering their weapons and moving cautiously in the direction of the shot.

Another shot rang out.

Calleigh grabbed the phone off her hip as they ran. She dialed 911.

"My name is Calleigh Duquesne, I'm a CSI from Miami-Dade, Florida. I'm at Medal of Honor Golf Club. Two shots fired. My partner, Eric Delko and I are armed and headed to the scene."

"Where at the club are you?" The operator asked.

Calleigh looked around quickly, still running after Eric.

"We're in the wooded area near hole three."

"Two officers and a paramedic will be dispatched immediately."

"Thank you."

"Over there." Eric pointed to a man writhing on the ground.

Eric pulled off his shirt and used it to apply pressure to the wound. Calleigh checked the perimeter quickly and then returned to help him. She held the wounded man's hand and began to speak gently to him.

"It's okay, Sir. You're going to be okay. We called the paramedics, and they're on their way."

The man stared at her. "Thank you, Miss, but it's no use. I'm not going to make it."

"Don't talk like that, Sir," Calleigh said kindly.

"You remind me of my daughter," he said. "She has blond hair just like yours. I wish I could see her one more time."

Calleigh smiled sadly at him.

"Tell my wife…" he gasped for air. "Tell my wife I love her."

"I will." Calleigh promised.

In the distance they heard the sound of sirens approaching. It was too late. The paramedics pronounced the victim dead at 8:53 PM. The responding officer, Jim Thomas, took their statements and after he was satisfied that there was nothing more he could do, he told them they were welcome to wait for the other CSIs, if they wanted to follow through on this case. After the coroner arrived and released the body, the officer checked for ID. _James Michael O'Shea_, 68 years old.

"Why do people insist on committing such crimes?" Calleigh asked Eric, still a little shaken from the man's death.

"I don't know, Cal, that's what we'll have to find out," he answered gently.

Two CSIs arrived at the scene. Eric grabbed Calleigh's arm gently and led her over to meet them.

"Eric Delko, Miami-Dade CSI, this is my partner, Calleigh Duquesne."

"Nice to meet you," the other CSI greeted. "I'm Matt Davies, and this Angela Simms."

"You mind if we tag along?" Eric asked.

"Not at all. But if you could, I'd like to examine your shoes and Calleigh's, just in case there's any evidence trapped there. For now, though, you can just put some shoe covers on, and that should keep any evidence intact. I've got a box of 'em in the car." Matt said.

"No problem. I'll grab 'em and be right back," Eric replied.

"I got an extra shirt in there, too, man. You're welcome to it," Matt offered.

"Thanks." Eric replied, heading off in the direction of Matt's car.

"I kinda like him shirtless," Angela said, after Eric was out of earshot. Calleigh blushed. "And I think I'm not the only one," she added with a smirk.

Thankfully, Eric returned quickly, saving Calleigh from having to answer.

"Eyes, no hands." Matt instructed the two Miami CSIs.

"Of course," Calleigh said. "This is your scene."

"Feel free to put in your two cents if you think you have something, though," Angela added.

It took about an hour to process the scene. The guys found a strange red fiber on one of the bushes nearby, and Calleigh and Angela found both shell casings. There wasn't much else there, with the exception of the trace the guys collected, but they couldn't identify it in the field.

"We've done all we can for now. You two need to get some rest, we'll pick it up again tomorrow," Angela said.

"Sounds good to me," Calleigh replied. "You about ready to go, Eric?"

They finished up and said goodnight to Matt and Angela, agreeing to make themselves available as witnesses in case they were needed again.

They headed off the golf course and soon found themselves being assaulted by a swarm of mosquitoes.

"Get away from me," Calleigh told the little creatures. They didn't appear to be listening.

"Remember the floater at Little Maule Lake?" Eric asked.

Calleigh laughed at the memory. The bugs had devoured Eric and Calleigh, but Speed had escaped without a single bite.

"I still don't know how he managed to avoid getting bit," she said, smiling.

"He told me later he knew it'd be bad and used bug spray," Eric told her.

Calleigh just shook her head in amusement. Speed had spent almost as much time teasing them about being eaten alive as he had processing the scene.

It was a lovely night, aside from the bugs, and Eric suggested they take advantage of it and drive out to the Starbucks in Dumfries for a cup of coffee.

"It may not be good coffee, but it's better than what we've been getting," he said.

Calleigh laughed. Only Eric would even think to suggest that Starbucks coffee was anything but liquid gold. It didn't occur to her at the time that there was a Starbucks on base, and driving out to Dumfries for coffee was just an excuse Eric made up to spend time with her. It probably didn't occur to her because she was looking forward to time with him, just as much as he was with her.

Matt was just heading to his car and overheard them talking. He recommended a little coffee house called Insomnia.

"Just head up Jefferson Davis Highway. Get off at the Fuller Rd. exit. Turn right at Fuller Road, and then make a quick left on Fuller Heights. Make a left at Old Triangle Road, and then right on Woodland Dr. Make another right on Graham Park Rd, then a left on Purvis Dr. Follow Purvis around the curve, and you can't miss it. There's always half a dozen hotshots sitting out there trying to catch themselves a girl."

Eric thanked him and they agreed to give it a try. They rolled down the windows and enjoyed the warm night.

"Which lecture did you like best so far?" Calleigh asked Eric as they turned onto Old Triangle.

"Dr. Pender's lecture." Eric teased, trying to keep a straight face.

"Really? What about it did you like so much?" Calleigh inquired, clearly not buying it.

"It was just so thoughtful of them to give us an opportunity to sleep after that long plane ride," he replied.

"Eric!" She scolded, trying not to laugh.

When they arrived Eric parked and they walked in to the little coffee house. He moaned at the smell of the wonderful coffee brewing. He was instantly tempted to buy a couple pounds of fresh beans, a grinder, and a french press. His attention was, however, quickly diverted to two men, probably father and son, arguing in Russian.

"Ne govorite so mnoj tot put'!" the older one yelled.

Eric didn't particularly want to hear any more of their conversation, so he greeted the men in Russian.

"Dobryj vecher," he said.

The men looked up with a start.

"Dobryj vecher," the younger man said quickly, obviously glad for the interruption. He looked Calleigh up and down before realizing how inappropriate he must seem. "YA sozhaleyu. Vasha zhena nastol'ko krasiva," he apologized.

"Ona ochen' krasiva. Odnako, ona ne moya zhena," Eric said.

The man looked back at Calleigh and smiled lustfully.

"Vse yesche," Eric added roughly, feeling suddenly jealous. He was sorely tempted to drape an arm over her shoulders, but decided she probably wouldn't appreciate it.

Calleigh was quite puzzled by the whole thing. "What in the world?" she asked.

"He said my wife is very beautiful," Eric said simply.

Calleigh blushed. "Thank you," she said, "but – "

Eric cut her off. "What do you feel like having this evening, Querida?"

She looked at him, puzzled.

"Just play along," he whispered in her ear, pressing a quick kiss to her neck.

She shivered at the contact. "Stop it, baby," she said in a teasing voice.

Eric grinned. He could definitely get used to this.

They both decided on a light Brazilian coffee and ordered them to go.

"Hey, lovebirds," one of the young Feds called, "if you're looking for a quieter spot there's a park just up Main street a bit. Make a right at Washington, and you're sure to see it."

Eric and Calleigh just looked at each other and shook their heads. Nonetheless, they did head over to the park to enjoy some quiet. It was a nice change from all the noises of Quantico.

"What was all that about in the coffee shop?" Calleigh asked after they'd sat there quietly for a few minutes.

Eric looked away. "I didn't like the way he was looking at you."

"Neither did I, but I don't think he was going to do anything."

"The look on his face was priceless, though."

"What did you say to him anyway?"

"I told him he was right. You are very beautiful, but you aren't my wife. Yet."

"Shame on you, Eric," Calleigh attempted to scold him, but she couldn't hold back the laughter.

The evening continued with the same light banter, and before they knew it the clock read 10:30. They regretfully agreed that it was time to get back. They parted ways back at Quantico and Eric was asleep in no time.

**/EC/**

_12:58 AM._ The numbers seemed to be taunting Calleigh as she lay there, trying to fall asleep. She rolled over again with a groan. She'd been lying here, wide-awake, for the last two hours.

"You shouldn't have had that coffee," she silently chided herself. The coffee was great to keep her awake during lectures, but when Eric offered to buy her a cup off base, she couldn't seem to refuse. Having Eric all to herself for a whole evening just sounded too good to pass up. She'd been right. It had been wonderful.

"Insomnia Coffee House," Calleigh mused, "is responsible for my insomnia. How ironic." It had been worth it, though. They'd had a lovely time. They'd laughed and talked for a little over an hour. It was as free and warm as the days before Speed's death had been. The way it was before they'd starting to think too much about their relationship and the possibility of losing each other.

After another ten minutes, Calleigh gave up on trying to sleep. She grabbed an old pair of workout shorts and a "Gun Control is Hitting Your Target" shirt she'd picked up in one of the shops. She pulled them on over her new black swimsuit. After dressing quickly, she grabbed her room key and headed for the hotel gym.

Even at a little after one in the morning there were people in the gym. Calleigh spent thirty minutes on the stationary bike before heading over to the pool to swim laps. As she stripped down to her tankini she wished she had remembered to pull her hair back, but it wasn't enough to stop her from swimming. The water was a little colder than Calleigh was expecting and she shivered slightly, but her body quickly adjusted and she fell into a easy rhythm, moving up and down the lane for almost an hour.

**/EC/**

Eric woke abruptly. _2:30._ He shook his head, trying to clear the images of Speed from his brain. He wasn't quite sure what had triggered this dream. They usually came after particularly rough cases, or the resurrection of old memories. _The mosquitoes._ Eric laughed mirthlessly. He missed his old friend so much. Speed would have loved coming here with them. He would have been just as bored in the lectures as Eric was, but they would have had fun. He would have enjoyed ribbing Eric and Calleigh about being mistaken for husband and wife, and he would have made sure everyone knew about Eric's reaction to the man's lustful attentions.

Eric didn't know quite what had prompted that. He just didn't like seeing the man stare at his Calleigh. _My Calleigh? __When did she become mine?_ Ah, who was he kidding? He'd been fighting his feelings towards her for months. He knew it would be unprofessional, but that hadn't stopped him and Natalia. If he was really honest with himself, he'd admit he was just scared. Scared that she wouldn't feel the same way. Scared that she would and it wouldn't work out. Scared of losing his best friend.

Eric knew he wasn't going to be sleeping again anytime soon, so he decided to go swim laps. He changed quickly and walked down to the gym. The sight that greeted him was a most welcome one. Apparently he wasn't the only CSI from Miami having trouble sleeping.

He slid quietly into the lane next to her and waited until she finished that lap before making her aware of his presence. He toyed, briefly, with the idea of surprising her from below, but he quickly decided that she probably wouldn't appreciate it at two in the morning.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked.

"No, I guess I've got too much caffeine built up in my system. You?"

"Thinking about Speed. How much fun he would have had here with us."

Calleigh laughed sadly. "Then there would have been two of you to wake up during Dr. Pender's lecture."

"Exactly! Two of us to share your wrath," Eric teased.

"Eric Delko!" She cried, pretending to be offended. "My wrath?"

Eric started swimming away quickly. She swam after him, but he was a much stronger swimmer. She looked around quickly. They had the pool all to themselves, so she swam over to the next lane chasing him in his own lane. He reached the other side of the pool and saw her coming after him, so he swam down and waited for her to notice he was missing. When she stopped swimming and started looking for him he swam under her and tugged her down by one leg. They were both gasping for air when he let her go and they resurfaced.

"I start chasing you, so you pull me under? How does that make sense? Just more for me to get you for!" She grabbed his arm before he could get away.

"Please lower your voices, and don't splash in the pool for heaven's sake." A voice requested. Calleigh let go of Eric and turned to face the displeased gym employee.

"Sorry. Long day," she apologized with a smile.

"Just don't let it happen again," the older woman ordered.

"We've gotta be back at the conference in a few hours, we should get some sleep," Eric said.

Calleigh agreed and they quickly dried off and starting walking back. Eric walked Calleigh to her door and squeezed her shoulder before continuing on to his room with a much lighter heart.

* * *

**In case you're wondering, here is the translation for the Russian conversation. **

****

Ne govorite so mnoj tot put' - Don't speak to me that way!

Dobryj vecher - Good Evening;

A sozhaleyu. Vasha zhena nastol'ko krasiva - I'm sorry. Your wife is so beautiful.

Ona ochen' krasiva. Odnako, ona ne moya zhena - She is very beautiful, but she is not my wife.

**Vse yesche - Yet.**

* * *

**Next Author:** Zelda49

**Next Chapter Post Date:** Sometime within the week.


	6. Matters of Blood and Connection

**Date**: June 25, 2008  
**Author**: Zelda  
**Beta'd** **by**: LPN  
**Three elements to include**:  
(given by Kazalene)  
1. A sandwich  
2. A phone call from Horatio  
3. A shared memory of Eric and Calleigh's

Chapter 6 is now up! throws confetti...then immediately begins cleaning it up when OCD kicks in. The title is a Dashboard Confessional song that I actually didn't know about before I wrote this, but it's particularly fitting. And six million Zelda points to anyone who can figure out where the ex-husband's last name came from :P Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Six: Matters of Blood and Connection**

* * *

The next morning, as Calleigh was polishing off her outfit for the day with a low ponytail, there was a sharp knock on her door.

"Who is it?" she called, winding an elastic band around her hair as she headed for the entryway.

"It's me."

She swung the door open, coming face to face with a less-than-fresh looking Eric. "Hey," she greeted him, subduing the cheer in her voice in deference to his expression. "Come on in…I'm almost ready."

He obediently followed her into her room, dropping down onto her bed with a small sigh, watching her retrieve her hairbrush from the bathroom and run it through the ponytail. When she returned, he waited for her eyes to meet his before speaking. "Do we have to go to another lecture today?" he asked.

She studied his face, noting the dark circles under his eyes, the fatigue that seemed to seep from his pores. "Didn't sleep very well after all, huh?" she returned.

"No," he confessed with a shake of his head. "The pool helped, but I kept dreaming about Speed…" He let the sentence trail off, unable to say aloud what he was thinking.

She saw it all in his eyes. _The mosquitoes. The shooting. Memories of Tim. It's still hard for him, isn't it? _Placing her hand over his, she gave it a little squeeze and smiled gently. "What about a road trip?" she suggested. "Might do us some good to get away from here for a little while, and we're not that far from Washington, DC."

"Or Arlington National Cemetery," he added.

"Feeling like you want to pay your respects," she said, reading his thoughts again.

"Yeah. Why, you don't think it's a good idea?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow at her.

"I think it might be difficult," she replied slowly, "but after what happened yesterday, maybe we should. Maybe we need to."

Her willingness to ditch their responsibilities, even for a day, surprised him. "Really?"

"Really," she echoed, squeezing his hand again.

He smiled a small smile at her and squeezed back. "Then Arlington it is."

They drove their rental car up the more scenic route of US-1, avoiding I-95 and taking their time, riding along mostly in a comfortable silence. Neither did they make many comments upon entering the city of Arlington, where the traffic picked up and became a little more snarly. Calleigh simply navigated from the passenger seat, glancing at the map they'd picked up along the way, and Eric calmly followed her directions to the parking area at the cemetery.

They walked side by side up the paved road, moving leisurely, unconsciously turning their faces into the light breeze that tickled the tree branches above them.

"Any spot in particular you want to go?" Calleigh asked, reading the signs around them.

"Not really," Eric returned with a shrug. _I just want to be here._

"Okay," she replied simply.

Forgoing the tram that circulated around the property, they continued to walk the paved roads but stayed away from the sections of the cemetery that were heavily populated by tourists, electing to keep to the less trafficked areas. The silence returned between them, but, as before, it was an easy silence. Neither felt compelled to speak, to break the calm; both were content to read headstones and plaques as they passed, respectfully paying tribute to those laid to rest.

After twenty minutes of strolling around they paused under a leafy green tree, seeking relief from the warm sun, allowing their eyes to roam over the rows and rows of simple white markers placed so precisely before them. For several long moments they stood and just looked out at the sea of tombstones, until Calleigh's breath hitched in her throat. Her hand rose as though she was putting it to her chest, but halted in mid air.

"What?" Eric asked quickly, his eyes darting to her face.

Some of the stones had engravings not only on the front to identify the soldier, sailor, marine, or airman buried in the plot, but also on the back when a relative had been placed there as well. Calleigh's gaze was riveted to the back of one such marker, her mouth open as though she wanted to speak but was unable.

"Calleigh, what is it?" he tried again, a hand grasping her shoulder gently. When she still didn't respond he followed her line of sight to a headstone carved with bold letters, declaring the name of the sons of the deceased who lay along side him.

The first son was named Timothy Steven.

"I…thought…" she attempted slowly, lowering her hand and wondering if she should say it out loud. _Should I even bring it up?_

"You thought it said Speedle," Eric finished quietly.

Calleigh managed to nod slightly, tearing her eyes away from the grave marker and fixing them on the trunk of the tree behind him."Yeah," she whispered. "And it just…hit me…all at once…" She pressed her lips together, trying to stave off the wave of emotion that threatened to overtake her.

"I miss him, too," Eric murmured, his hand sliding from her shoulder to the small of her back, drawing strength from her as much as he hoped to impart it.

Perhaps it was the dredging up of memories the night before. Maybe it was James O'Shea dying in her arms. It could have been the solitude of the section they stood in, or any combination of factors. Whatever the reason, Calleigh found herself drawing closer to Eric and leaning against him, giving in to her grief. "It's like being at his funeral all over again."

He wrapped an arm around her in response, his mind flashing through stills from the day they buried Tim. He saw the flag-draped casket, the bagpiper playing _Amazing Grace_, the priest standing at the head of the gravesite, the row of officers readying their rifles for the gun volley. And he knew Calleigh saw the same things.

They stood there together for several long moments, reliving the awful day they said good-bye to their friend as they stood in the shade a thousand miles away. Calleigh's cheek came to rest against Eric's shoulder, seeking the comfort she could only find in him. He, in return, tightened his arm around her, his lips finding her hair and remaining there, his eyes closing in sorrow.

The stillness was broken, though, when Calleigh's cell phone vibrated in her pocket. Reluctantly she pulled away from Eric and reached for the device, checking the Caller ID before flipping it open. "Duquesne."

"Hi Calleigh, it's Matt Davies from the Quantico lab."

"Hi Matt," she answered, trying to steady her voice. "What can I do for you?"

"Is Eric there with you?" he asked instead of answering her question.

She glanced up at Eric, a quizzical expression on her face. "He is. Is there something you need from us? More questions?"

On the other end of the line, Matt shook his head. "No, your statements were very complete in the O'Shea case. But there's been, uh, a development."

"What kind of development?"

Eric shared her puzzled expression now, mouthing the words _what's going on?_ She shook her head a little in an I-don't-know response.

"We need you to come into the lab and help us out, if you could," Matt told her vaguely.

"Help you out with what?" Eric was staring at her now, trying his best to push all his renewed pain away and focus on the situation, but she could see the sadness lingering in his brown eyes. It made her realize how little she'd dealt with her own in the passing years.

"It seems that James O'Shea is somehow connected to an open case in Miami-Dade County."

**- - -**

By the time they reached the lab Calleigh was all business again, seemingly leaving her pain and heartache in Arlington. Eric stole a glance at her out of the corner of his eye and worried about the calmness she exhibited. _I know it's only a front. How bad is it underneath?_

Aloud, he asked Matt to explain himself further. "So the vic from last night's shooting is linked to one of our open cases?"

Angela answered the question for her colleague. "We ran some preliminary tests on the evidence collected from the scene, including the shell casings Calleigh and I found. Got a case-to-case hit: casings match those from the gun used in a murder down in your neck of the woods. We were hoping the two of you might be able to shed some light on the situation."

"May I see that case number?" Calleigh asked politely. Matt handed her the printout he was holding while she pulled out her cell phone and quickly dialed. Within a few minutes she had information to share. "P.D. says the vic in this case was a Paul Venkman, shot twice in the chest in South Pointe Park a month ago."

"I was the primary on that case," Eric interjected. "Jogger found him the morning after he was killed, laying in a pool of his own blood."

"Anything unusual about the scene?" Matt wondered.

Eric shook his head. "Not that I remember. The M.E. put time of death at around ten o'clock the previous night, found a couple of partial prints that didn't hit in any of the databases…never found the gun."

"Well, we know now that the gun is here in Virginia," Calleigh reminded them.

"But what connection does your Paul Venkman have to our James O'Shea?" Angela asked.

"M.D.P.D. is sending up the case file," Calleigh informed them. "Everything they can send electronically I'll have within the hour via e-mail, and everything else is being overnighted."

Eric's brain continued to whir. "Did you get anything else from last night?"

"Yeah," Matt answered. "That weird trace we found turned out to be plain old antibiotic ointment, the kind you can find in any supermarket or drugstore."

"Neosporin," Eric confirmed, using the brand name for the product. "But that stuff's clear. The smear we found was tinted."

"With blood," Angela said firmly. "Our D.N.A. analyst is running it now."

"Could be victim blood," Eric thought aloud.

Calleigh nodded. "Or it could be our killer."

"And the red fiber?" Eric continued.

"Cotton," Matt sighed. "It didn't match anything the vic was wearing."

James O'Shea's last words floated through Calleigh's mind. _"Tell my wife I love her."_ "Has anyone interviewed the wife yet?"

Matt and Angela exchanged looks before Angela answered. "She's pretty broken up. One of our officers is with her now."

Eric stole another glance at Calleigh. _She has a message to deliver. _"Mind if we talk to her?"

Matt shrugged. "Maybe she can tell you how her husband is connected to your vic."

The two local CSIs led their guests to the parking lot and drove them to the O'Sheas' home, where they found Mrs. O'Shea seated on a floral-patterned sofa next to one of the local police officers, clutching the officer's hand.

"Mrs. O'Shea?" Angela asked gently, waiting a moment for the woman to look up. "Mrs. O'Shea I'm Angela Simms. I'm a Crime Scene Investigator." She paused, allowing the new widow a chance to process the information.

"Are you here about Jim?" she asked weakly.

Angela nodded, shooting a quick look at her three colleagues. "Yes ma'am. This is Calleigh Duquesne—she's also a CSI—and we'd like to ask you some questions if you feel up to it."

Mrs. O'Shea nodded in return, gesturing to two overstuffed chairs arranged near the sofa. Calleigh and Angela each took one.

"Would it be okay if these two gentlemen took a look through your husband's things?" Calleigh inquired, motioning to Matt and Eric, who had remained standing.

She nodded again faintly, and the officer rose from the sofa to lead the way. "I just can't believe he's gone," she said softly, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

"We're going to find out who did this to your husband," Angela assured her. "Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt him?Anyone that had a grudge against him?"

Mrs. O'Shea shook her head. "Jim and I own a candy store down on the other side of town," she told them, tears forming in her tired eyes. "Everybody loved him."

The two women glanced at each other. _Heard that one before._

Calleigh tried another question. "Have you ever heard of Paul Venkman? Does that name sound familiar to you?"

"It should," the widow replied in a wobbly voice. "Paul Venkman was my daughter's ex-husband." She began to cry openly, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the handkerchief.

"Paul Venkman was your son-in-law?" Angela repeated incredulously.

"Yes," Mrs. O'Shea confirmed. "He was married to my daughter for twelve years. They moved to Miami together. Poor Susanna," she wept. "First Paul, now her father…"

The two CSIs exchanged looks a second time, both moving to console the grieving woman while they waited for Eric and Matt to finish their search, allowing Calleigh to deliver the man's last words to his wife. It was several more minutes before the four of them managed to excuse themselves and head back to the car.

"Well, we got nothin'," Matt offered, climbing into the driver's seat. "Just your usual 68-year-old man stuff."

"Not even a dirty magazine," Eric added with a half-chuckle, pulling his back door closed as he sat beside Calleigh. "This guy was as average as they come. How'd you ladies do?"

"We found another link to your Miami case," Angela smiled from the front passenger seat.

"Really?"

Calleigh flipped open her phone and dialed a familiar number, nodding to her friend. "Hey Horatio, it's Calleigh. The conference was going pretty good, but there's been a twist…I thought you might have heard…yeah, the casings match, and we just found another link.Can you have a conversation with Susanna O'Shea Venkman?"

**- - -**

Arriving back at the lab, the foursome printed out hard copies of the crime scene photos and reports that had been e-mailed to Calleigh, poring over them, looking for anything that would shed light on either case. But, as Matt sorely pointed out, "These cases are the two most ordinary murders I've ever seen!"

When they finally called it quits Calleigh and Eric drove back to their hotel, stopping at a little mom-and-pop deli along the way for dinner, sharing a bag of potato chips in his room as they munched their sandwiches. The conversation was light and friendly, as though they were grabbing a bite to eat after a regular shift back home, as though the morning in Arlington had never happened.

Eric frowned at his pastrami on rye. _She probably won't talk about it, but I can't just let it go._

"Hey," she called softly, sitting a few feet away from him on the bed. "You okay?"

He smiled a small smile at her. "I was actually just about to ask you the same thing."

That surprised her. "You were?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, Cal. Today was…today was weird, and not just for me."

"Yeah," she agreed slowly. "I guess you could call it 'weird'."

He noticed that she didn't elaborate, but neither did she try to change the subject. "What would you call it?" he pressed gently.

She was studying her turkey club, running a finger over the crust of the bread, turning thoughts over in her mind. "Hard," she finally replied, her gaze still fixed on her sandwich. Then, lifting her eyes to his, "But I'm glad we did it together."

"Me too," he agreed. "I'm glad I could be there for you. And I don't know what I'd do without you, either—" He took a deep mental breath before finishing his sentence. "—and I'm not just talking about today."

Watching his face as he spoke, she saw the sincerity in his expression, the deep affection in his eyes. It was the same look he'd given her after she was abducted, the one that told her he was very serious, and that he wasn't exactly referring to their friendship. "Eric…"

"Come on, Calleigh, don't tell me you haven't noticed there's something going on here," he half-teased. "At the coffee shop last night? The pool?"

"The coffee shop was just an act," she brushed him off, "because of that guy leering at me from behind the counter."

"Was it?" he questioned quietly.

"Y-yes," she answered, startled briefly by the gravity in his voice. "And the pool, that was just…playing around." His dark eyes never left her face, even as her bright ones shifted around the room, and she knew she wasn't going to brush him off so easily this time. "But not for you."

Her last statement came out almost in a whisper, and Eric had to convince himself that she really said the words out loud. When he was sure she had, that they were finally going to talk about this, butterflies began to form in his stomach. "No," he replied tenderly, "not for me." He wanted to reach out to her, to take her hand, to wrap his arms around her, but he remained still, waiting for her reaction.

"Eric, I—"

She was cut off by the ringing of her cell phone. Grabbing for it off the nightstand, she read the Caller ID and flipped it quickly open, noting Eric's frustrated sigh. "Hey, Horatio..."

"I found Susanna Venkman," he told her from the lobby of the crime lab in Miami.

She allowed herself to look at Eric, her features giving away both her relief and apprehension about their interrupted discussion. "Did you talk to her?"

"Oh yes," Horatio replied, oblivious of the tension in the air four states away. "And you'll never believe what she had to say for herself."

* * *

**Next Author:** LePecoreNere

**Next Chapter Post Date:** July 15th


	7. So Far Away

**Date Chapter Written:** July 2, 2008.  
**Author:** LePecoreNere  
**Beta'd by:** faithobrien  
**3 Elements from:** faithobrien  
**1.** A grocery store  
**2.** New shoes  
**3.** A pharmacist

**A/N: Woo it's -finally- finished, hope it's good. Thanks to Kaz for helping me, otherwise I never would've gotten it done.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven: So Far Away**

* * *

As Calleigh listened to what Horatio had to say, she was forced to do a double take. "What?" she said, making sure she didn't mishear the Lieutenant.

"Mrs. O'Shea-Venkman is pointing her finger at the mother," Horatio repeated calmly.

Calleigh glanced at Eric, noting the confused looks he was giving her. "Why would Susanna accuse her mother?" she asked.

"Well, ma'am, I sent the interview to the lab. You may see for yourself. But, for now, I need the crime to be investigated without prejudice."

"Okay," Calleigh started slowly, trying to figure out the parallels, "should Mrs. O'Shea be taken in for further questioning?"

"I don't think that's necessary, ma'am. I trust you'll be able to continue the investigation without pulling in an old family feud," Horatio replied. "I'll handle Susanna for now, until then, take care of yourself."

"Yeah, talk to you later," Calleigh said, feeling all too much like a cloud had replaced her brain. She closed her cell phone and placed it back on the side.

"What did Horatio have to say?" Eric asked.

Sighing, Calleigh ran her fingers through her hair and began to recount her conversation with their boss. "What do you think?" she asked after a moment's pause.

Eric frowned, knowing the opportunity to talk about him and Calleigh… _us_, had just gone out the window. "I think it's strange that Susanna would accuse her mother of this," he said, chuckling in disbelief. "I mean, I can't picture Mrs. Venkman as a cold-blooded killer," he finished with a shake of his head.

"Yeah, I know. I wonder how the case from Miami is connected to this one? That's what I don't get; there's no apparent link between them," Calleigh said thoughtfully.

"I wouldn't have known that these two murders were connected at all until the bullet evidence," Eric replied, looking down at his empty plate. He took a moment to think before he glanced back up and suggested, "Maybe we should take H's advice. There's obviously some kind of family feud going on with the Venkmans, so we should stay neutral. Go with what the evidence tells us."

Knowing that he was right, Calleigh nodded. It was perhaps the most important rule of being a forensic scientist - focusing solely on the evidence. And a small smile graced her mouth as she tried to work out when her role reversal with Eric had taken place - she was usually the pragmatic one.

Eric watched her carefully, wondering what she was thinking about, wanting desperately to try and broach the topic of 'them' once more; but knowing that the moment had well and truly passed. The pregnant pause between them was broken, however, when Calleigh suddenly said, "I think we should go back to the crime scene."

Eric blinked. "For what?" Hadn't they already gotten all that was needed from it?

"I think we might have missed something," she replied. "Call it gut feeling." If the crimes were indeed connected, they needed a way of proving that the same killer was at this crime scene, and not just the gun. They need something; a proverbial nail in someone's coffin.

"Okay, like what?" he asked.

"I don't know, but first we've got to see if there were any results on that blood."

**- - -**

To say that the Quantico Crime Lab was big was an understatement. That had been the first thing that Calleigh noticed when she'd stepped foot in it before, and it still hit her now. The second had been that it was _busy_; people in lab coats moving to and fro, talking in small knit groups obviously about cases littered the tiled floor. The occasional suit spoke of detectives, and uniformed police officers strolled around; some laughing, some stoic.

"Kinda puts our lab to shame, huh?" Eric breathed next to her, effectively reading her thoughts. "Place is huge."

"Hey, welcome back," Angela said, walking up to them. The humor on her face was evident as she watched their slack-jawed amazement. "Don't worry; it gets less daunting after a while. Matt was awe-struck for a week; he even went shopping in an attempt to fit in better - brought new shoes and everything!" She let out a small laugh. "But, I've got news: the evidence and case information just arrived," she informed them. "If you'll follow me..." She began to walk and they set off after her, passing A/V rooms, DNA and Print labs, various rooms full of high tech gadgets... until eventually they came to a stop in the Layout room.

The evidence from James' murder was spread out, and the box with Paul's murder stood prominent on the table. Matt looked up from the photos and greeted them.

"Okay, first things first: the blood in the antibiotic ointment had no hits on CODIS, but I can definitely tell you that our killer is a male," he said.

"So that definitely rules out Mrs. O'Shea, as well as Susanna," Calleigh deduced.

"No familial match to relatives or anything?" Eric asked.

"Already did that, and nope, no family ties to either Mrs. O'Shea or the daughter."

Eric and Calleigh looked at each other. The look was simple and clear: _Neither woman had a hand in murdering their husbands. Back to square one?_

"We've got Detective O'Leary digging around in Mr. O'Shea's past, who knows? We might find someone linked to them," Matt told them.

"You mean besides obvious family relations?" Angela asked. "Other than family, I don't really see much that connects these two cases," she said, irritation evident in voice. "We've got no leads and it's day two of this case."

"Tell me about it; it's been longer than that for our case. We were getting ready to put the case in the cold case files," Calleigh replied, letting out a small sigh.

The air was cut suddenly with a loud ringing of a cell phone. After realising that it was coming from him, Matt flipped his open and answered, "Davies." There was a brief pause. "Hello, Detective O'Leary… uh-huh… okay. Yeah, I'll tell her. Yeah, we'll be there soon." He finished the call and hung up before turning to his colleague. "Angela, O'Leary found a possible lead. We're gonna meet him out front," Matt informed her.

"Okay. Well," she began, turning to Eric and Calleigh, "we'll fill you two in later." She turned to leave, but not before she remembered, "Oh, by the way, I'll let you two in on something." She leaned over the table, and lowered her voice. "You'd better watch out for Mr. O'Leary. He's a mean old Irish cop who thinks the sun shines out of his ass. Like there was this one time, we were questioning a suspect at a pharmacy and he-"

"Ange, we've got to get moving," Matt told her, looking a little impatient.

Angela rolled her eyes. "Alright, I'll finish the story later."

**- - -**

Eric and Calleigh left the lab; both having the intention of returning to their hotel rooms and sleeping. But as Eric started the car, a thought popped into his mind. "I'm gonna stop at the grocery store on the way back."

"Why?" Calleigh asked as she strapped herself in.

"Because I have a feeling we're going to be here for a while. Plus the hotel food is barely edible."

"Eric, do you remember what happened to the potatoes?" she reminded him with a fond smile.

He groaned as the memory came up. "You had to bring up the potatoes." He shook his head as he remembered when he'd tried to cook something for his sister's party. The dish had ended in a disaster, literally. In his desperation, he had called Calleigh for help, and she'd walked into the house to find a surprise.

**- - -**

_"Eric! What happened?" she exclaimed upon entering. The kitchen was a disaster. The top of the stove was emitting an unnatural amount of smoke, and Eric was using a fire extinguisher to try to put it out._

__

"I was trying to make some papas rellenas, but, well, I'm sure you can put two and two together." He gestured to the smoldering deep fryer.

"Yeah, but what were you cooking for? A special occasion?" she asked.

"Yeah, uh, my sister is having a baby, and mamí is throwing her a party. She asked me to bring a dish, and I guess that I decided the best way to eat them is burnt." He let out a chuckle. "But anyway, I kind of need another dish, and I was wondering if you could help me?" he asked with a grin.

"Sure," Calleigh smiled, "I'll show you how to make my mom's red beans and rice," she told him, her accent thickening with the memory of good Southern food.

"Red beans and rice? Don't beans take like two hours to cook? I mean, the party starts in an hour."

"My, for someone who burnt potatoes, you sure do know your beans," she sassed. "Yes, they do take a long time to soak, but we're going to do the fast and dirty method; it'll only take about twenty minutes." She began to rummage around his kitchen, taking out some rice, and searching for beans.

"Oh? And is this 'fast and dirty method' your mom's recipe?" he asked, crossing his arms as he watched her raid his kitchen.

She turned and narrowed her eyes. "Well, I'm kind of wingin' it. But I don't think you have the time to complain," she told him pointedly, trying to be serious, but a smile giving it away. "Eric," she sighed, "you've got no kidney beans in your cupboard."

He smiled. "Well, we can always stop by the store and pick some up?"

"Yeah, we'll also be needing some ham at the store, too," she replied.

"Lead the way, ma'am," he said, gesturing for the door.

_"My, aren't you quite the charmer?" she teased as she walked out the door, smiling as he quickly followed._

**- - -**

"Well, I can assure you that I am _not_ going to burn the food this time," Eric informed her, shaking the memory from his mind and pulling out of the parking lot.

"Alright, I guess we'll have to test your cooking abilities later on." Calleigh tensed as she realized what she was implying. Last time they'd been alone and around food she'd nearly opened up to him, and cooking together was just so... conventional. With a deep breath, she rambled, "I meant you could cook, and afterwards we could go to bed…" She paused. "Our own beds," she rushed as her face began to turn a brilliant shade of red. Why was she making the situation so much more… awkward?

"I, uh, knew what you meant," Eric assured her with a chuckle, clearly just as embarrassed by her faux-pas. But the idea of cooking for her did sound nice... maybe it would give him a chance to broach the topic about their relationsip. Again. He felt old doubts and fears arise. Would it be too late? Every time he tried to broach 'them', it only seemed to push her farther away. He hoped he would have the words this time to tell her… before everything he wanted drifted farther from his reach.

* * *

**Next Author:** Bella7  
**Next Chapter Post Date: 23/07/08**


	8. Cannonball

**Date Chapter Written:** July 9, 2008.  
**Authoress:** Bella7  
**Beta'd By:** TexasJen  
**3 Elements From:** TexasJen  
**1.** Burned hot dogs  
**2.** A margarita  
**3.** The hotel pool

**A/N: I loved being a part of this little experiment, hope ya'll like what I've added to the mix! Thanks to TexasJen for her help in the beta department. The title, in keeping with our song title theme, is from Teddy Geiger. Without further ado... chapter eight**.

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Cannonball**

* * *

Calleigh squinted at the shrubbery and tilted her head to the side. "Could you move the light a little more to the left?" she requested politely.

Eric obliged and watched as she leaned closer, the tip of her nose nearly brushing against the leaves of the bush. "Cal, don't you think it would be better if we waited until morning?"

She turned back and shielded her eyes against the glare of the flashlight. "Why wait when I've got a big strapping man to hold my spotlight for me?" she asked with a grin. "More to the left," she added with a jerk of her head as she returned her gaze to the leaves.

"What are you looking for exactly?" he asked, holding the light higher to offer her a greater vantage point.

"I don't know yet…" Calleigh said slowly, pushing back a branch. "These shrubs are where you and Matt found the red fiber, right?"

"That's right."

"Call it instinct," she began, moving more leaves. "But I feel like there's something more here."

Eric said nothing but watched as Calleigh buried her head further in the foliage and came up after a moment with something shiny clutched between her gloved fingers. "And I guess you were right," he admitted with a nod. He squinted at her findings. "What is that?"

"I don't know." She held it closer to her eyes, peering in the light Eric was still shining on her. "Looks like a button off of a shirt," she added after studying it for a few more moments. "There's a letter 'M' on it... or maybe a 'W'." She dropped it into an envelope and slipped it into her back pocket. "Let's get this back to the lab."

As they walked back to the car in silence, Calleigh couldn't help but feel a wave of tension radiating between the two of them. She cleared her throat. "Eric, it's not a big deal... that thing was buried. Anyone could have missed it."

"What?" He shook his head. "Yeah, I know."

She glanced sideways at him. "Everything okay?"

He nodded without looking at her, trying to force himself to focus on the task at hand. "So we've got this guy's blood, a fiber, and now a button."

Calleigh noticed his topic skirting but said nothing of it. "We're putting him together, piece by piece." She let a few more moments go by. "You sure you're all right?"

"Yeah," he nodded again. "I'm fine."

He wasn't fine. He hadn't been fine for the past few days. He needed to talk to Calleigh, really talk to her, about what was going on between them. He'd been waiting for a moment to present itself, but so far, work kept getting in the way.

Calleigh was on the phone with Angela before he realized they'd made it all the way back to the car. "Yeah… it was on one of the lower branches... could have popped off if our suspect was using the bush to hide himself." She paused, waiting for a response. "No, we're still at the scene... just about to leave."

Eric watched as a smile spread over her face.

"Yeah, we'll stop off at the lab on our way back to the hotel." She nodded again. "Okay, I'll see you in the morning."

"So I guess we're making a stop?" Eric ventured, opening her door for her.

"If you don't mind... I know I keep putting off dinner, but we can grab something afterward, I promise."

"Actually," he rounded the car and got in next to her, sticking the key in the ignition. "I think I'm just going to order in."

"What happened to grocery shopping?"

"I really don't feel like cooking," he said honestly, realizing how tired he was and thinking with disgust about the 7-11 across the street from the hotel. "Plus, pizza will be better than anything any of these all-night places have to offer."

She grimaced. "Nothing like heat-lamp-burned hot dogs and stale coffee to make you miss all the comforts of home, huh?"

He shook his head. "Yeah, home's sounding pretty nice right about now." At least at home, he reasoned, things were normal. Boundaries remained constant, flirtatious banter was left un-scrutinized, and he could sleep better at night without his mind wandering through a thin wall of lime green palm trees.

**- - -**

The next morning dawned bright and early and with a phone call from Miami.

"Good morning, Eric, hope I didn't wake you," Horatio greeted, sounding far too pleasant to Eric considering it was 6:30 and they had at least two unsolved murders on their hands.

"No, no," he lied around a yawn. "I had to get up to answer the phone anyway."

His boss caught his joke and offered an audible smirk. "I just got back from talking to Susanna Venkman... "

"So early?" Eric asked before he could stop himself.

"She works odd hours... it was the only time she knew she'd be available," Horatio reasoned quickly before continuing. "Anyway, she's still pointing the finger at her mother, but I don't think it's as cut and dry as that."

"Well it can't be," he shrugged. "The blood at the scene was male and there was no familial match to either victim."

"Right, but it was the way she said it, Eric. She said, 'It's all her fault. She's the one who caused all of this.' She didn't say she was the one who did it."

Eric ran a hand over his face. "She didn't say anything else?"

"No, she's been rather unhelpful through this whole thing."

He sighed. "Looks like we're going back to talk to Mrs. O'Shea."

"Looks like," Horatio mimicked. "Eric."

"Yeah?"

"Tread lightly."

**- - -**

Eric showered and dressed quickly and pulled open his door to find Calleigh, fist poised for a knock, with a carrier of two large coffees. "Hey," he smiled.

"Angela called... have a coffee."

He accepted it and closed the door behind him. "Good morning, Calleigh."

She offered an apologetic smile. "Good morning, Eric. Angela called," she repeated with the same urgency. "She wants us to come down to the lab."

"Well that's good, because H just called to tell me about his latest run-in with Susanna Venkman."

"Looks like we're skipping another lecture."

He smiled down at her as she pushed the button for the elevator. "I'm sure today counts as a learning experience."

**- - -**

The button and the red fiber, it turned out, were linked together. The button had come off of a uniform from Margarita's, a cocktail bar in the heart of town. The color of the fiber matched the red of the shirts, but not the consistency.

"They're thinking the fiber might be thread from when the button popped off," Calleigh explained on the way to Mrs. O'Shea's.

"And how do we find out who is missing a button from their shirt?" Eric asked, steering through the unfamiliar city streets.

"One uniform at a time, I guess," she shrugged. "They might have a warrant by the time we get back."

"Let's hope Mrs. O'Shea can shed some light on the subject."

"Let's just hope she's more forthcoming than her daughter."

**- - -**

"She said what?" the line between Mrs. O'Shea's eyebrows creased further. "Why would she say something like that?"

"Mrs. O'Shea," Calleigh began softly, glancing to Angela for the go-ahead. After receiving a nod, she continued. "Your daughter isn't saying you're responsible for your husband's death. She was merely suggesting you might be able to give us a little more information."

Angela cleared her throat. "But please, Mrs. O'Shea, can you think of any reason your daughter might have to suspect that your marriage was in trouble?"

The widow pursed her lips in thought. "I can't believe she would remember something… it happened years and years ago… she was only a few years old at the time, for Heaven's sake."

"What is it?" Angela interrupted the woman's rambling.

"Jim and I," she began, her eyes welling once more. "We hit a rough patch, when Susie was only a baby... he was unfaithful. But we moved past that," she insisted. "We went to counseling, we did everything we could to get back on track, and we did. We were very happy."

Calleigh nodded, feeling her stomach twist at the question she was about to ask. "Mrs. O'Shea, please don't take this the wrong way, but I have to ask."

"What is it?"

"Your husband's affair… was it with a man?"

The older woman's eyes widened in surprise. "Of course not!" she exclaimed, deeply offended. "We were having trouble, Miss Duquesne, but not that much trouble."

"I'm sorry," she apologized quickly, ignoring the ghost of a smile that Angela tried to suppress. "I didn't mean to offend you, I just needed the information to eliminate certain people."

Still huffy, Mrs. O'Shea offered a weary eyebrow and less than encouraging looks in Calleigh's direction for the remainder of the interview.

"I realize it happened over thirty years ago," Angela began, taking out her notebook. "But would you mind telling us the name of the woman your husband had an affair with?"

She gave a heavy sigh. "Carrie Young," she snipped. "Certainly not a name I thought I'd ever be saying again."

**- - -**

When the four CSIs returned to the lab from the O'Shea home, it was to a large pile of plastic bags.

"What is all this?" Matt asked, lifting the bags carefully, watching as a uniformed officer brought in another pile.

"Uniforms from Margarita's," the young woman answered plainly. She gave a mirthless smile. "Four shirts each from all thirty six employees. Have fun."

Angela raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the officer's retreating back. "Almost one hundred and fifty shirts to go through." She raked a hand through her hair and sighed, looking down at the overflowing glass that marked the restaurant's logo. "A margarita sounds pretty good right about now."

Eric smirked and checked his watch. "Margaritas before noon? I think I like this place."

"It's not even noon?" Calleigh checked her own watch. "You know, we should probably get back to the seminar."

Eric groaned.

"Come on," Calleigh added. "We've barely gone all week... we can at least catch an afternoon lecture."

He groaned again. "If we have to…"

She rolled her eyes and smiled. "It won't kill us, I promise."

Angela waved with a smile. "Have fun, guys."

"Let us know if you get anything from Carrie Young?" Calleigh requested, backing up toward the elevators.

"Absolutely."

**- - -**

The lecture they attended together — Forensic Entomology and Its Uses — lasted through the better part of the afternoon and was led by a man whom Eric thought was old enough to be the very first entomologist. He had a shock of white hair sticking out in an Einstein fashion, a deep and soothing voice and a habit of drawing out the 'o's in all of his words.

After the entomology lesson, Eric and Calleigh went their separate ways. She to a ballistics lecture and he to burn off some of his frustrations in the hotel pool.

He'd lost track of how many laps he'd done when he heard a splash from the other end of the pool. Eric turned to see Calleigh seated on the other side of the deep end, dunking her feet in. He felt the corners of his mouth turn up at the sight of her in her bathing suit, modest though it was.

She caught his grin and smiled back, sending a wave his way. "Mind some company?"

Eric took only a few moments in crossing the pool. "Not at all," he assured her, surfacing. He watched for a few moments as she swished her legs back and forth, the water lapping over her calves. "Are you coming in or what?" he asked, raising a teasing eyebrow in her direction.

"I don't know," she rested her hands behind her and leaned back. "It feels a little cold."

"It's not," he promised, meeting her eyes. "Just come in."

"I can't decide," Calleigh replied softly as her gaze intensified.

It suddenly occurred to Eric that they weren't talking about the water anymore. "It seems like an easy decision to me." He allowed another smirk to tug at the side of his mouth.

Calleigh rolled her eyes as she brought herself back up to sitting. "It would seem easy to you." She looked down toward the water again. "It's pretty deep." Her eyes moved back to his, "I'm not that strong of a swimmer."

Eric hoped she couldn't hear his heart pounding as he ran his hands up her calves, over her thighs and finally brought them to rest at her waist. "Tell you what," he said softly. "You jump in," he gave a tug and slid her into the water with him, "And you can hold onto me."

* * *

**Next Author:** TexasJen  
**Next Chapter Post Date:** July 27th, 2008.


	9. Something About the Way You Look Tonight

**Date Chapter Written:** July 15, 2008  
**Authoress:** TexasJen  
**Beta'd By:** racefh  
**3 Elements From racefh**:  
**1**. 3 shots  
**2**. A kitten  
**3**. A ghost

**A/N: Many thanks to my husband and Amanda Ruth for their invaluable help. The title song is by Elton John, and one of my favorites.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Something About the Way You Look Tonight**

* * *

_Eric hoped she couldn't hear his heart pounding as he ran his hands up her calves, over her thighs and finally brought them to rest at her waist. "Tell you what," he said softly. "You jump in," he gave a tug and slid her into the water with him, "And you can hold onto me."  
_  
Calleigh gave a high pitched cry as the cold water enveloped her lower body, then a gasp as the buoyancy of the water helped to push her directly into Eric's body. Of course, the slight tug on her as he pulled her into the water helped, and Eric's lips tipped up in a satisfied smile as her body collided softly with his.

The rush of desire Calleigh felt at being almost skin to skin with Eric, with only the material of her bathing suit separating her breasts from his chest was instantaneous. Heart pounding, unable to look him in the eyes, she relaxed against him when she felt his arms wrap around her waist. "I, um," she began haltingly as she, in turn, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, "I… I want… that is I need…"

"Calleigh, you're not making any sense," Eric teased softly as his fingers danced along her spine, knowing full well why she was tongue tied. Her inability to form a coherent sentence gave him the confirmation that he needed: that she was just as affected by his closeness, as he was by hers… that she returned his feelings.

The shiver that ran down her spine at his touch was too much for Calleigh to take. Biting her bottom lip, she slowly moved out of his embrace. "That's because I can't think straight when… when…"

She paused, blew out a breath, and gathered up her courage. Taking another deep breath, she looked into his eyes and murmured softly, "I can't think straight being _that_ close to you."

Never breaking eye contact, Eric moved to the side of the pool and grabbed two of the Styrofoam tubes that lay between the pool ledge and the line of poolside chaise lounges. After handing one to Calleigh, he placed his tube around his back and leaned back against it as he moved into the deeper water. "Come on," he said with a wink.

Feeling more relaxed, and mentally thanking Eric for understanding her need for a little space so they could talk, she moved with him into the deeper water and settled back against her tube.

Silence reigned for several moments as each gathered their thoughts, the only sound that of the traffic on the nearby road, and the water as it sloshed around their bodies. Sighing deeply Calleigh leaned back more, almost floating her body on the top of the water, unintentionally laying before Eric like a feast for his eyes.  
He stared unblinking for several heartbeats, any words he was going to say died before they reached his throat. Shaking his head as he blinked a few times to clear the fog in his brain, he reached out and tagged one of her ankles with his hand. "C... Cal?"

Righting her body in the water, Calleigh moved a little closer to Eric and reached out to take his hand in hers, still grasping the tube with her other arm for balance. "I do trust you, you know," she blurted out before meeting his eyes. "With everything that I am," she added with a shy smile.

Eric's heart soared, catching her hidden meaning. "I know," he murmured in reply.

"I just… I'm afraid, Eric, because we work together." She paused, tightening her fingers around his, looking down at the rippling water, as if gathering her thoughts. "If we… if we don't work out, what will happen to us?" She choked on her next words, tears forming in her eyes as she spoke, "Eric, I don't want to lose my best friend."

Eric moved closer until he could grab onto her tube. Releasing her hand, he touched her face, brushing his fingers against her cheek. "Calleigh," he murmured, "Didn't I prove to you this past year that I could separate our work life from our personal life, that the choice you made didn't affect our friendship?"

She covered his hand with her own, gently bringing their joined hands to rest against her heart as she thought back over the past year, her relationship with Jake, and how she and Eric were still able to maintain not just a good working relationship, but their friendship as well. A slow smile graced her lips. "Yeah… you did," she replied softly, her last argument against a deeper relationship dying on her lips.

Taking a deep breath, her green eyes held his intense gaze. She gave him a strong smile as she spoke the two most insignificant words in the English language, but words that held more meaning than he could handle: "I'm ready."

Feeling her rapidly growing heartbeat against his hand and knowing they needed to take things slowly for now; knowing HE needed to break the intensity of the moment before he embarrassed himself, Eric brought her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. He nodded toward the door back into the hotel. "Come on, I've got an idea for dinner." Tugging on her hand he turned around and led them back toward the stairs at the shallow end of the pool.

After wrapping towels around their wet bodies they made their way back to their rooms, hand in hand. Stopping at Calleigh's door, Eric leaned down to kiss her forehead. Calleigh's eyes fluttered shut as his lips lingered for several moments, his warm breath caressing across her skin.

His lips tipped up in a smile when he felt Calleigh's eyelashes flutter shut. When he pulled back and dropped their hands back to their sides, he saw a flicker of disappointment cross her eyes, but it disappeared just as quickly as it had come.

"I'll meet you in the lobby in thirty minutes," he said with a wink, matching the grin that was presently gracing her lips.

**- - -**

A little over an hour later, Eric pulled their car into a parking space at the Leesylvania State Park. Grabbing the bag of sandwiches and chips they'd purchased from the 'mom and pop' deli they'd tried before, Calleigh got out of the car and turned to watch as Eric opened the trunk and retrieved the bedspread he'd obviously taken from his hotel room.

Bedspread under his arm, Eric grasped Calleigh's free hand and led her down one of the wooded walking paths. "Matt was telling me about this place. He said it was the perfect place to stargaze," he told her as path led them to a large grassy area that bordered the Chesapeake Bay.

After scanning the grassy area for the perfect spot, Eric laid out the bedspread in a spot close to the water. He beckoned to Calleigh to relax on the bedspread as he took their sandwiches out of the bag, and for the next hour they slowly ate their meal, watched the sun go down, and enjoyed the slight breeze that blew off the water.

All he could do was stare at her with a silly smile plastered to his face… as she ate her sandwich, as the breeze fluttered her blonde hair, as her eyes sparkled when she smiled back at him. As usual, her beauty took his breath away, and it was all he could do remember to breathe. The sun went down, boaters and swimmers went in for the night, hikers on the walking paths finished their hike and left the park… but Eric and Calleigh remained in their own little world.

Belly full, Eric lay back on the makeshift blanket as he watched Calleigh meticulously place their trash into the bag and walk it to the nearest trashcan. He watched with a smile as she walked back. There was a change in her, he thought to himself. She looked happy and content, and the smile on his face grew as he realized that it was all because of him, him and the change in their relationship.

"You're looking pretty happy," Calleigh said as she lay down next to him and looked up at the night sky.

"I have a reason to be," he murmured in reply, giving a deep sigh.

Calleigh turned her head to look at him. "Eric… so do I," she whispered, her accent more pronounced with the emotions he was stirring in her.

Hearing his name leave her lips on a whisper, voiced in that sweet southern accent made Eric want to take her then and there, but not only was the park not the place, it was definitely too soon. Instead he settled for lightening the mood.

"Did you know," he began, "that I used to think ghosts only came out to haunt at night when the moon was out, and the sky was clear and full of stars… like tonight?

"No," Calleigh laughed. "Why only on clear starry nights?"

"Back then I thought our house was haunted, because on nights like this I would hear them walking around in the house late at night, usually outside my bedroom in the hallway. Sometimes the ghosts would scratch on the windows, even open and close the back door."

Calleigh laughed some more, as she saw where his story was going. "Hmmmm, walking in the hall late at night, scratching on the window, and opening and closing the back door… I'll bet that ghost was a female ghost."

"Yep… you guessed it. Some years later when I was older… and wiser… I realized it was my sisters sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night. They would sneak out when nights were like this. They could see without the aid of flashlights - less of a chance of getting caught."

"I'll bet you cowered under your Spiderman comforter when you heard the ghost sneaking out of the house." Calleigh giggled at the picture she formed in her mind of a young Eric scared out of his mind and hiding under the covers.

"Batman," Eric retorted good-naturedly as he turned toward her and leaned up on his elbow. "It was a Batman comforter. I bet yours had Barbie on it."

"I hated Barbies."

"Guns then," he said as he reached out to poke her. "It was a comforter with all kinds of guns on it, wasn't it?"

She was still laughing as she slapped his hand away. "It was kittens!"  
Eric could only smile at the visual picture. "Little Calleigh Duquesne, sleeping under a kitten comforter." The picture in his mind changed to a little Calleigh Delko, blonde hair and light brown eyes, sleeping under a kitten comforter. That was a picture he hoped to God he'd see with his own eyes some time in the future.

His heart drummed in his chest, the image of a future child with the woman in front of him too much for it to handle. When he brought his eyes to hers, he saw a torrent of emotion raging within them. He wondered what she was thinking that brought on such a sight.

That train of thought was quickly derailed when her tongue slipped out to wet her lips, disappearing within once more in quick succession. Her breathing seemed shallow, and her cheeks were flushed lightly.

Meeting her eyes once more, he asked, "Are you okay, Cal?"

"Yeah," she breathed out, giving him a sweet smile as she pursed her lips together.

Suddenly, all control he had over the distance between them escaped him, and he leaned toward her slightly. As the inches lessened gradually, his heartbeat quickened to an immeasurable level, and he was sure it would explode.

His lips met hers tentatively, giving her every chance to pull away. When her lips increased their pressure on his, he smiled and brought his hand up to rest on her waist, still supporting himself on his elbow.

The kiss was slow, languid, and sweet, continuing until Eric's fingers drifted under the hem of her shirt, coming into contact with the bare skin of her hip… making her shiver.

Eric broke the kiss, separating their lips by mere inches. "Cold?" he murmured.

"Nuh uh," she whispered in reply, bringing a knowing smile to Eric's lips… a smile that turned into a gasp as Calleigh leaned up and captured his lips with hers.

**- - -**

Early the next morning Calleigh knocked on Eric's door, cup of Starbucks hidden behind her back. A sleepy but smiling Eric opened the door and before he could open the door wider, she stepped forward and planted a soft kiss on his lips, bringing forth the cup of coffee as she stepped back.

"Good morning," she greeted him brightly.

"It is now," he murmured in reply as he took the cup of java from her hand. "Did you sleep well? Because I sure did," he winked at her, pulling her into the room.

"Yes I did," she replied, smiling demurely.

Eric could only smile in return as he turned to find his shoes. "I'll be ready in a minute, just need to put my shoes on."

"I hope you have a schedule of the day's events," Calleigh told him as she followed him into the room. "I can't find mine."

"It's over there on the table." He pointed with his finger as he picked up his shoes and sat down on the bed to put them on. "Pick something good. Better yet," he added, but was interrupted by Calleigh's ringing cell phone.

"Duquesne," she said into the phone. "Hey Angela, did you find Carrie Young?"  
There was a slight pause. "What did she have to say?"

Eric watched, intrigued, as her eyes got wider. "Really! So I was right."

He listened to her end of the conversation for a few more moments until she hung up. "I take it they found her?"

"Him," she replied, a knowing smile on her face.

"Him? Calleigh, you're not making sense again," he said as he moved closer to her.

"O'Shea's affair wasn't with Carrie Young - Carrie with an I–E, but with Cary Young: C-A-R-Y."

"His affair was with a man?" Eric was incredulous; then he remembered something. "So that's why you asked Mrs. O'Shea if his affair had been with a man. You suspected it, didn't you?"

"Mmmhmmm," she replied, a look of satisfaction on her face.

Eric grinned broadly. "That's my girl," he exclaimed, prompting a laugh from Calleigh.

"We're skipping the conference again, she's got some more to tell us." At Eric's look of gratitude, she added, "And we have a meeting with Detective O'Leary."

Eric stood and picked up his key card and the car keys, guiding her out of the room with a hand at the small of her back. "I'd still like to know what it was he said or did at the pharmacy."

Calleigh looked at him quizzically. "Huh?"

"Remember Angela was telling us about O'Leary, how he was a - and I quote - a mean old Irish cop?" At her nod, he continued, "Angela started to tell us something that happened at a pharmacy, but she never got to finish."

Calleigh merely rolled her eyes in response.

**- - -**

"So Mrs. O'Shea lied to us when she told Calleigh her husband's affair wasn't with a man," Eric stated as he sat down in a chair next to Calleigh in the Quantico Crime Lab's break room. Together with Angela and Matt, they'd commandeered a table in the break room to discuss the case and their next move.

"Not necessarily," Matt answered from behind them as he prepared four cups of coffee. "We're not sure yet whether she knew Cary was a man."

"Where'd you find him?" Calleigh questioned.

"Get this," Angela said as she opened a file. "We found _Colonel_ Cary Young at the Pentagon."

"Oh." Eric sat forward, "There's motive right there, at least when it comes to O'Shea's murder. If the Marines found out he had a sexual relationship with another man, he'd be in one hell of a mess."

"That's right. He was stationed at the marine base here in Quantico when he began the relationship with O'Shea. While he was there, he was involved in Colombian paramilitary training."

"Wait," Calleigh interrupted her. "You said when he _began_ the relationship"

"Mmmmhmm," Matt said as he placed the four cups down on the table. "Began. According to the Colonel, they never ended their relationship." He looked over at Eric and continued, "Going off your mention of the motive that gives him… this gives him even _more_ motive. It's one thing to have a one-time affair long ago, but the Marines would never forgive an on-going affair with a man."

"Believe me... we had a hell of a time getting him to talk to us yesterday." Angela sat back in her chair, remembering how understandably reluctant he was to answer their questions.

"Well, while he had motive," Calleigh interjected, "we still don't know how his murder is tied to Paul Venkman's."

Matt blew air over his coffee to cool it a little. "That, my new-found friends, is the million dollar question."

**- - -**

The meeting with Detective O'Leary took place in O'Leary's office. He deemed it beneath himself to meet in conference rooms or anyone else's office for that matter, except for perhaps the Police Commissioner's office, but only because he had no choice in that. If it had been up to him, he would have been Police Commissioner a long time ago.

The office contained, in addition to his desk, a round table with four chairs in the corner, and a small table next to it that contained his own coffee maker. He refused to drink 'office coffee' and instead had the secretary, and old grandmotherly woman named Claire, make him his own pot of coffee every morning using his own preferred brand of coffee.

Calleigh and Angela sat in the chairs, while Eric and Matt stood behind them. The detective himself sat in the chair he preferred to sit in, a chair that no one else dared to sit in, lest they be met with a 'death stare' and a very impolite "MOVE!"

Despite being seated with the two women, the detective looked directly at Eric and Matt as he spoke. "The candy store James O'Shea and his wife own, Sweet Things, has been doing very well for them financially, despite sales and inventory figures that seem to say otherwise," he informed them as he opened a file and threw his written report on the table. "By all accounts, the traffic in and out of the stores for reasonably priced candy has been average… but the standard of living they enjoy is far above what they should have."

"Are you saying you think there's a side business going on?" Calleigh politely asked, highly intrigued by the possibilities.

O'Leary continued on as if he hadn't been spoken to. "Susanna and Paul Venkman work the supplying end of the business in Miami… but I'm sure you knew that already," he added as he directed his gaze from Matt to Eric.

"Yes, _we_ did," Eric replied with a hint of annoyance, emphasizing the 'we' and now disliking the man. "Are you saying you think there's a side business going on?" he asked, repeating Calleigh's question.

"It certainly appears that way. I just haven't figured out what that is… yet."

Angela knew it did no good to ask questions of the detective, so she directed her thoughts at Matt. She turned to look at him and said quietly, "The Venkman's end of the business," and then turned toward Calleigh, rolling eyes in unison with her.

"What exactly did Susanna and Paul Venkman do for the business?"

"They handled the ordering and shipment of candy products from South America through the Miami ports. I figure that's why they moved to Miami in the first place."

"So the candy for the O'Shea's store comes from South America… and Colonel Young has obviously been in Colombia, having trained with the Colombian Paramilitary," Calleigh mused, tapping her fingers on the table as she thought it out.

"There has to be a connection there," Eric stated as he looked down at Calleigh, seeing where she was going with the information. "We also know Susanna was angry at her mother about something, blaming what happened on her." He directed his gaze at Detective O'Leary. "Were you able to find out anything else?"

O'Leary looked insulted. "Of course I did!" He huffed a little more, puffing out his expansive chest, and turned to Matt. "Caroline O'Shea was born Caroline Stewart. When she was about ten years old her father passed away, and within a year her mother." He looked down at his notes, "Paulina, met and married Guillermo Cordoba. Seems she and her daughter vacationed for a while in Brazil after her father's death, and that's where they met."

Matt's head was spinning with all the new information. "I need a drink," he declared. "Three shots of Jack ought to do it."

"Wow," Angela blew out a breath. "This is a lot."

"Of course it is." O'Leary smiled, clearly proud of himself. They couldn't do without him. Hell, the department would fall to pieces when he retired.

His smile grew and became very smug as he leaned back in his chair and laid the bombshell. "That's not all… the owner of the shirt missing a button at Margaritas is -" He paused for dramatic effect, "Manuelo Cordoba, son of one Guillermo Cordoba."

* * *

**Next Author:** Racefh  
**Next Chapter Post Date:** 30/07/08


	10. What I Love About You

**Date Chapter Written**: July 22, 2008  
**Author**: Racefh853629  
**Beta'd By**: LLK

**3 Elements (from LLK):**  
1. A lady named Jane  
2. An oak tree.  
3. A hole in someone's panties

**A/N: Many thanks to Kaz and LLK for their help. I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. :)**

A couple of people have mentioned that there was no one named Jane in this chapter, despite it being one of the elements. There is, though - she's the hostess :P.

* * *

**Chapter Ten: What I Love About You, Is I'll See You In My Dreams**

* * *

As the pieces of the case came together, it was decided that Matt, Angela, and O'Leary would run with the new lead. Calleigh informed Horatio of the new developments before turning to Eric. "Now what?" she asked. He smirked.

"I have an idea…" he said suggestively. She shook her head.

"Not here."

"I meant, dinner, at a real restaurant." She shrugged.

"Okay, fine." She grabbed her bag, walking out with him to their car. He smiled, following behind her.

He could walk behind her for days, taking in every square inch of her perfect frame. Her long, blond hair tempted his fingers to get lost in it for hours while he stared deeply into her green eyes to see her soul. She always knew the right clothes to wear to display her perfect curves without being too trashy about it.

Any way Eric looked at the situation, he saw one solution- she was, always had been, and always would be perfect.

She threw a glance over her shoulder, catching his small smile and wandering eyes. "Eric Delko," she said.

"Yes?" he asked, meeting her eyes. The eyes he dared to dream about.

"Stop staring at me." He shrugged.

"I can't help it. You're perfect."

**- - -**

She had to work hard to keep the blush off her face at his statement. She stopped, allowing him to walk up to her and put an arm around her."Yeah, well, you're not so bad yourself," she said with a wink. He chuckled.

His laugh always had been music to her ears, soothing her soul in even the darkest of moments. From his dark hair to his perfectly smooth, tan skin to the strong muscles held under the flesh, there wasn't a part of Eric Delko that Calleigh didn't love.

She smiled up at him, thinking about how there was no other person in the world that she'd rather be with at the moment. No one in her life had ever made her as happy as Eric did. And she loved him for it.

He smiled back down at her, his eyes twinkling from the sunlight and his delight. His dark chocolate eyes were always the most telling part about him. One look in them, and you knew exactly what he was thinking or feeling, whether he wanted you to or not. That was another one of the many things she loved about him.

But the thing she loved most was that he could read her much better than anyone ever could. He always knew what she was thinking and feeling.He always had the right words to say for the moment.

As much as she hated it, she loved it.

**- - -**

"What're you thinking about?" he asked. She smirked.

"Come on, like you don't know," she bantered. He smirked.

"About how much you love me?" She smiled wider.

"You always could read me really well." He chuckled.

"I try," he said with a wink.

"So, what do you have in mind for dinner?" she asked. He smiled.

"Something I think you'll really enjoy."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"If I can read you so well, don't you think I'd know what you'd enjoy?" She shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess. But, I want to be sure." He took her hand in his gently, smiling sweetly at her.

"I'm sure you'll love it." She smiled back at him, squeezing his hand gently as he led her away.

**- - -**

After changing into something nice, Calleigh met Eric at her door. "You clean up nicely," she remarked. He grinned.

"I could say the same thing about you, my dear," he replied, extending his elbow to her. She took it gently.

"So, where are we off to?"

"Some place fitting of your beauty."

**- - -**

As they entered the restaurant, she gasped. "You told me it'd be good, but…" she said softly.

"I know," he said. "You always have your doubts." She smirked.

"Yeah, I do." They walked up to the hostess, Jane, who smiled.

"Welcome to the Star Island Restaurant," she said. "Reservations?"

"Two, for Delko," Eric replied. Jane checked the list before looking up with a smile.

"Right this way." She grabbed two menus and led them out to a secluded area on the patio. Calleigh smiled widely at him.

"How's you manage this?" she asked him. Eric chuckled.

"I had Horatio call in a favor for me," he replied. She laughed while he pulled out her chair for her. She smiled, sitting down. He helped her push it back in before walking around the table and sitting in the chair next to her.

"This is amazing, Eric. Thank you."

"Anything for you." She smiled as the waiter came over and took their drink order. The waiter walked away, leaving the couple to peruse the menu.

**- - -**

After a nice, intimate dinner, the two returned to their hotel, opting to hang out in Calleigh's room. Eric rested back against the pillows, and Calleigh laid next to him. He wrapped his arm gently around her shoulders as she turned on the TV. They settled into TV Land, watching reruns of the shows they used to watch as kids. Neither said a word, but then again, neither had to.

Their silence was comfortable, something built upon years of trust and friendship. There wasn't a need to get to know one another better- having worked side by side for years, they knew each other very well. They had spoken over dinner and now, case work aside, there wasn't much else to talk about.

They settled closer together before quietly nodding off.

**- - -**

The old oak tree came into view, and Eric frowned. He was used to this dream image, and he wasn't sure he wanted one of these right now. Not when things felt so right. Then again, maybe this was confirmation.

Speed came into focus, and Eric shook his head. "You definitely grew a flair for the dramatic when you died," he said. Speed chuckled.

"Can't help it," he replied. "I somehow began to embody H."

"What's the deal, Speed?"

"Calleigh's not wearing any underwear, and you're falling asleep?"

"She's wearing underwear."

"You peeked."

"I did not."

"Fine, you stared at her ass, then." Eric shrugged, and Speed smirked. "She does have a nice ass."

"Did you pull this up so you could harass me?"

"Okay, so she's wearing underwear, but trust me, they have a hole in them. in the right place, if you catch my drift." Speed winked, and Eric shook his head.

"You're immature," he said. Speed smiled.

"You know, when I first met you, that was typical conversation for us," Speed remarked. Eric shrugged.

"Things change. That was almost 10 years ago."

"Eight."

"Whatever. Point is, I've grown up a lot, and so have you." Speed nodded.

"You're right. We have."

"Which, again, begs the question," Eric said. "Why are you here? Why am I here? What are we doing?"

"We're talking," Speed replied.

"Why? Is there something you have to say, or do you just wanna bust my balls?"

"Why're you so serious today?" Eric sighed.

"Stressed. That's all." Speed shrugged.

"Relax, Delko. Life's too short to stress."

"You're right, Speed. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Listen, though. I did wanna tell you something, and we don't have much longer."

"Okay, shoot."

"First of all, if I was alive, you'd owe me 200."

"Shut up." Speed smirked.

"Secondly, I'm happy for you guys. This is the real deal, Eric. You better hold onto her."

"And that's why I didn't rush into her panties."

"They do have a hole in them, though."

"Shut up."

"She wore them just for you."

"Speedle."

"Alright, alright. I'm gonna get going because you're about to get…"

**- - - **

Eric woke up to Calleigh smacking him on the arm. He furrowed his brow at first before looking up at her. "What's up?" he asked sleepily.

"You were talking in your sleep," she replied, amused. His face flushed red.

"What was I…?"

"Nothing embarrassing." He nodded. "But I woke you up because I got a phone call from Matt. They have something for us."

"Great," Eric said, getting up. "Let's go." She nodded, grabbing her bag. As she bent over, Eric pondered Speed's mention of a hole, and he shook his head.

"You okay?" she asked. He nodded quickly, his face still red.

"Yeah, I'm good," he replied. "Let's go."

* * *

**Next Author**: AmandaRuth  
**Next Chapter Post Date**: August 04, 2008


	11. Crazy For This Girl

**Date Chapter Written:** July 31, 2008  
**Author:** Amanda Ruth  
**Beta'd by:** Kazalene  
**3 Elements From:** Kazalene  
**1.** A lost plane ticket  
**2.** A childhood memory  
**3.** A phone conversation with Angela

Hey guys. I'm standing in for shoppingluva91, because of previous personal engagements. The title is a song by Evan & Jaron, and I can't get the stupid thing outta my head thanks to jam sessions at camp. Thanks to Kaz for all her help, and I hope you all enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Crazy For This Girl**

* * *

Entering the Quantico lab, Eric and Calleigh were met by Matt almost immediately.

"The idiot didn't even bother to wash his shirt," Matt said abruptly, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Eric. "There was gun shot residue concentrated on the right sleeve and right side of the shirt."

"You're kidding me," Eric said, dumbfounded.

"I kid you not. We went to a judge with it, and we've got a warrant to toss Manuelo Cordoba's apartment."

"I take it you want us there?" Calleigh asked, her tone suggesting the question was just a formality, and speaking it hadn't been entirely necessary.

"Absolutely," he said, the corners of his mouth being tugged into a small grin. "Angela is there already. I opted to stay behind and lead you guys there." After receiving thanks from Eric and Calleigh, Matt clapped his hands together. "Alright, let's hit the road."

**-/-**

Five minutes into the car ride, Eric heard vibrating coming from Calleigh's seat. He watched from the corner of his eye as she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and checked the caller ID.

Flipping it open, she said, "Hey, Angela... Yeah, we're on our way... Is it the right caliber?... Was any ammunition found with the weapon?... Well, we'll need to check the striae, but it sounds like we've got it... OK, see you soon."

Disconnecting, she shoved the phone back in her pocket. "They found a possible murder weapon. Along with five boxes of bullets. Guess how many were missing from the gun's clip?"

After a brief moment of faux thought, Eric said, "Two."

"Excellent deduction, Eric," she teased. He smiled broadly, basking in the comfortable flow of their newfound relationship.

Within moments they were pulling up in front of a rundown building, broken windows outnumbering the intact, the bricks at the corners of the building eroding to rounded edges. The once white door was now a thick gray, the paint yielding to years of rain and wind.

Stepping out of their vehicle, Eric and Calleigh followed Matt into the building. The interior did nothing to improve the outer image. The paint on the walls was peeling in long strips. The moldings that had once shown beautiful designs were now uneven carvings jutting out from the wall. The railing for the stairs was splintered, the support beams cracked or even broken. As they ascended the stairs, the steps whined and moaned under their weight.

As they reached their destination, Eric peered at the doors that led into other apartments. The brass numbers that at one time shone in the dim light of the hallway were now rusted brown in places. Some of the numerical fixtures hung on by a single screw, lopsided or hanging upside down on the off white backgrounds of their doors.

Approaching a single open door, the sound of footfalls became increasingly clear. A man whom Eric could only assume was Manuelo Cordoba, with deep bronze skin that matched Eric's, stood with a uniformed officer just outside the door. His dark brown hair, which looked nearly black in the faded light of the hallway bulbs, was tousled about his head. His dark brown eyes glared Eric, Matt, and Calleigh through the door, but looked away as Eric threatened him with a glare of his own.

Sizing up the apartment, it matched all the expectations Eric had since seeing the rest of the building. A boarded up window in the back of the apartment let in a single ray of light. One intact window, curtains drawn aside to let in some natural light, lay on the opposite side of the wall. A couch, with stuffing peeking out of the ripping seems, sat diligently between the two windows, a water-stained coffee table directly in front of it.

To the right, a refrigerator hummed softly beside a dingy yellow counter. A stove with rusted coils sat beside a stainless steel sink, it's faucet dripping in a steady, tortuous rhythm. A smoke detector flashed on the wall in front of the fridge. Pots and pans hung precariously beside the window, each ready to clatter to the ground at the slightest disturbance.

To the left, a single door was set dead center in the wall. Weaving through various crime scene techs dusting and printing every available surface, Eric stepped through the door into a closet that could hardly be called a bedroom. A single twin bed was pressed as close as it could be to the wall, a nightstand directly beside it. An old table lamp sat atop the tiny table, offering the only available light aside from the filthy window that hid behind the door. A dresser, big enough for only a child, was to the immediate left of the doorway, a wallet set on it.

When Eric looked down at his feet, he saw a pair of legs sticking out from under the bed. Slowly, the rest of the body slid itself out, revealing a scowling Angela Simms. Her face was filthy, a dust bunny clinging to the hair above her ear for dear life. As she stood, Eric saw Matt enter the room out of the corner of his eye.

At the sight of his partner covered in dust and grime, Matt burst into a fit of laughter. Eric felt a shiver run down his spine at the glare the laughter received. "What the hell is so funny, Davies?"

Choking on his laughter at what Eric could only assume was the use of Matt's last name, he fought back the smile that was threatening to play on his lips. "Nothing, Ange. It's just..."

He started laughing again, his face turning crimson in the dusky light of the bedroom. She hit him on the arm, and his hand moved to grasp the offended area. A frown replaced the broad smile on his face. "Shit. You do realize you do not punch like a girl, right?"

Only nodding at his question, Angela smiled triumphantly. "So, now that you're no longer laughing, could you tell me what was so damn funny?"

"You're covered in dirt. You just looked so... oh, damn. What's the word I'm looking for?"

Giving him an 'I'll kill you if you act like a dick head again' smirk, she replied, "Adorable?"

Taking the hint, he said, "Yes, Ange. You look adorable." Lifting his hand, he plucked the dust bunny from her hair, his hand lingering on her cheek a few moments past appropriate.

Eric watched in awe as Matt held his hand to Angela's cheek. Her eyelids fluttered, a look of sheer happiness molding her features. When Calleigh came into the room, she stopped dead in her tracks, and Eric switched his gaze to her. A look of shock on her face, she stood motionless in the doorway. She turned to him, her eyes asking the question she obviously wouldn't dare not verbalize: What the hell?

Shrugging an 'I have no idea' her way, she walked up beside him and continued to stare. Deciding it would be best to break them out of their reverie, Eric coughed nonchalantly, causing them to jump a bit.

"What's up?" Angela asked, her voice half an octave higher than normal.

"You said you found a possible murder weapon." Calleigh gave the woman a knowing smile.

A blush inevitably crept onto the woman's face at being caught having a moment with her colleague, then said, "Yes. It's - " She cleared her throat as her voice cracked, "It's right over here."

As Calleigh followed Angela out of the room, Eric approached Matt, whose gaze was following the two women outside. "How long?"

"Huh?" he asked, tearing his gaze away to look at Eric.

"Come on, man. How long has that - " He motioned to the door Angela had just retreated through, and Matt, "been going on?"

"Never. Nothing's happened," he stated, disappointment evident in his tone.

"Well, it's obvious that there's something between you two." Eric gave the man a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder. "Just go for it. Trust me, there's nothing worse than waiting, than learning you're too late." Sighing at the thought of how long it took him and Calleigh to get to where they were now, he shook his head. "I would know."

"How?"

"I know we haven't known each other that long, but I'm going to let you in on something," he said, a conspiratorial grin playing at his mouth. "Calleigh and I went through a lot of speed bumps before we found each other. We were the missing piece to each other's puzzle. It took a lot of searching in the box of odd pieces before we found each other." Taking a deep breath, he continued, "You and Angela have it easy. You two fit, you just need to put the pieces together."

"How can you be sure?" Skepticism oozed from the question.

"I can't be. But is giving it a shot really that difficult? I'm serious, Matt. Just go for it. I promise you won't regret it."

Nodding, Matt smiled. "You're right. What the hell?"

Laughing, Eric looked around. "Yeah, what the hell?"

Matt joined Eric in laughter, and the two of them walked out of the bedroom to join the women.

**-/-**

After a search that yielded a gun, a funeral card for Guillermo Cordoba, a business card for the candy store owned by James O'Shea, and the address of the Venkman's in Miami, the case had started to come together against Manuelo Cordoba. But when the ballistics lab matched the gun to both murders, it was clear: James O'Shea and Paul Venkman had both been murdered by Cordoba.

"What I don't understand is why he did it," Eric said, his head spinning with dozens of scenarios.

"I can explain that," O'Leary said, his voice filled with arrogance. "When Manny was sixteen, his father committed suicide. Paulina Stewart-Cordoba had been having an affair with one of his close friends, and when he found out, he went over the edge. Decided that the best punishment for Paulina wouldn't be to kill her, but to kill himself."

"The man was an idiot," Angela scoffed, realizing the idiocy of the idea from the get-go.

"Anyhow, in the note, it said something along the lines of 'You did this to me, you're the reason I'm dead.' Unfortunately, Manny found the note, first. By the time he was ready to act out his revenge, Paulina had died of breast cancer. So, instead, he decided to take it out on her daughter and granddaughter. Then he got real clever: he'd kill the husbands, and let the women suffer long term. Killing them would be too easy, making them feel his pain would be a much better way to get his rocks off."

Eric rolled his eyes at the man's blunt description, but agreed that the man who committed the crimes was a complete moron.

"This doesn't make any sense," Calleigh groaned. "This will never hold up in court."

"Thankfully, the evidence will. It's solid. Only Cordoba's prints are on the gun, and on the unspent bullets. His shirt is covered in GSR, and his button was found at the scene of O'Shea's murder. If we can't get him on Venkman, we've at least got him on O'Shea," Matt said, his voice confident.

Looking at his watch, Eric's eyes opened in shock. "Well, you can definitely give us a call when you need us to testify in court. But right now, it's time for Calleigh and me to head back to Miami."

**-/-**

At the hotel, Eric rushed to pack his things. He scoured every inch of his hotel room, looking for anything he might have forgotten. Once he was sure that every last thing was packed, he placed his hand in his coat pocket to get his plane ticket. When it wasn't there, he checked the other pocket, then every other pocket when it wasn't there.

When he didn't locate it in his clothing, he stared down his suitcase. Had he put it in there? Walking over, he began searching through the outer pockets. Not there. So, in a panic, he opened his suitcase and tore through his clothes, tossing things over his shoulder in a frenzy.

A knock on his door froze his efforts. "Yeah?"

"Are you ready?" Calleigh asked.

"Just about," he said, his voice shaking slightly with nerves.

"Did you forget I was holding onto the tickets?"

Mentally berating himself, he walked over to the door and opened it. "Maybe."

Looking past him, she began laughing. Her face lit up in amusement, and he mock-glared at her.

She walked over to the mess he had made in his panicky attempt to find his 'lost' ticket, and began picking things up and folding them. He moved over and began doing the same, gently placing them in the suitcase.

A few moments later, his suitcase was zipped and ready to go. Looking over at Calleigh, he gave her a wide grin before he leaned in and kissed her lightly on the mouth. "Thanks."

"It was nothing. Now let's go before we miss our plane."

Kissing her one last time before picking up his suitcase and exiting the room, he thanked God for the umpteenth time that he and Calleigh had gotten to where they were.

_Now if you could just work your magic on Matt and Angela, I'd really appreciate it._

* * *

**Next Author:** Kazalene  
**Next Chapter Post Date:** August 06, 2008

Just one more chapter to go...


	12. Won't Go Home Without You

**Author:** Kazalene  
**Beta'd by:** lostladyknight  
**3 Elements from:** lostladyknight  
**1.** A Baby  
**2.** Three Pieces of Plastic  
**3.** A Hot Air Balloon

Well, here we are. The final chapter. I just want to say thank you to all the writers who made this project such a success - you made everything so easy and I can't believe how this story turned out. You're all amazing.

And, of course, thank you to those of you who took the time to read, as well to review.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Won't Go Home Without You**

* * *

As the plane rose up into the air, Calleigh rested her forehead against the glass of the window and watched as the ground disappeared beneath them. Moving through the clouds and into the brilliant blue of the stratosphere, she smiled at how clear the sky was. It was beautiful. And a perfect representation of her mind state. Quantico had brought everything into focus for her, and it had been a long time since she'd had such emotional clarity. A really long time. An overdue one, in fact.

But being with Eric, having finally taken a gigantic leap over that since forgotten line, somehow made her feel... _amazing._ Made her wonder how they'd taken so long to get to where they were now.

She knew why, though.

Every time that they'd got close, she'd run away. Gone looking for the nearest exit and made sure that she'd well and truly hurled herself through it. But, God, what she felt for Eric was just so _intense_. The desire had always been there, and the sexual tension stifling at times. It was more than that, though.

It was a raw and deep emotion. Something that encompassed the infinite amount of trust they'd developed over the years.

Love.

And it really was.

She bit her lip shyly as she entertained the idea and wriggled in her seat a little, trying to make herself comfortable. Satisfied that she was, she resumed to gazing out at the cloudless sky, amazed at how pristine it looked.

"Takes your breath away, huh?" Eric murmured quietly beside her.

Her eyes found his and she smiled. "Yeah, it does." She opened her mouth to speak again, to try and verbalise everything that she'd just been thinking about, but she was interrupted by the sound of a screaming baby in the aisle next to them.

The mother looked exhausted, and shot an apologetic look in the direction of her fellow passengers before attempting to settle the bundle in her arms. Several minutes later, and to no avail, she seemed just about ready to cry. "Please," she whispered a final time, eyes pleading down at her baby.

Feeling like he should do something, Eric dug into his pockets until he found what he was looking for. Having located his keys, he leaned over towards the mother. "Here," he offered. "Try this." He held the item out and nodded for her to take it.

She smiled her gratitude and half-heartedly began to dangle the keys above her screaming bundle of noise. And, after a few moments, a tiny hand reached up to tug at them, booming cries becoming tiny whimpers, until peace was finally restored to the aeroplane. "Thank you," she told Eric, a wide smile lighting up her features.

"No problem," he answered with a wink, settling back into his chair.

Calleigh watched the scene carefully, a small smile tugging at her mouth as Eric made himself comfortable once more. Her gaze continued to linger on the baby as small fingers began to probe at the three plastic items that hung from the keyring, and she found her eyes drawn to the interesting objects. She could understand the yellow fish - that surely derived from his love of the ocean. The other two items, however, were harder to place.

"What does that mean?" she asked, gesturing to a thin blue strip with what she could only presume to be Russian cryllic written on it: Ерик

He followed her gaze. "It's my name," he smiled, turning to face her. "My grandfather gave it to me when I was a kid. You pronounce it _Yeryik._"

"That's cute," she teased, before nodding to the final item. "What about that one?"

He was silent for a moment as he stared at the tiny kaleidoscope that she was referring to: the one that held the most sentiment. "Remember the year that Valera cooked us Christmas dinner, those few days before the 25th?" he murmured after a little while; continuing when she nodded. "I'd only been with the lab for a couple of months, and she was going through one of her phases: that time it had been an obsession with - "

"Hugh Grant, the English actor," Calleigh finished for him, a small laugh escaping her. "She adopted everything British that year."

"Yeah," Eric grinned. "Which is why, that year, we had Christmas crackers at the dinner table. The things with the unfunny jokes, broken paper hats, and cheap novelty toys inside of them." He laughed. "Anyway, I asked you to pull mine with me, and you did. You won it, though. But you already had your items - Speed had pulled your cracker with you - so you let me have them, which makes that - " He gestured over to the mini kaleidoscope, "the first thing you ever gave me."

"Eric," Calleigh began, trying verbalise the rush of emotion that was coursing through her right now, "Eric, how can you possibly remember that?"

A smile tugged on the corner of his mouth, then, his gaze briefly falling to floor before his eyes found hers again, "Because," he stated simply, "I love you. That's how."

She bit her lip shyly at his words, couldn't contain the grin that spread across her features - didn't want to. Then, leaning towards him, she pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, pulling back to whisper, "Good. 'Cause I love you, too."

His eyes never leaving hers, he reached out a hand to brush the hair away from her face before he captured her lips once more - deepening the kiss almost immediately. She responded with a small sigh, the kind that sent shivers down his spine. And, at that moment in time, he couldn't care less that they were on a plane with hundreds of other people.

Evidently, however, _she _could, and she broke the contact - albeit half-heartedly. Taking that as a sign, though, he leaned in again and kissed the corner of her mouth, his lips tracing their way across it as she attempted to protest, "Eric..." She let him have his fun a little longer - knowing that she didn't have any real desire to push him away - but then her brain kicked in once more and she was finally able to disentangle herself from him. "How about we save this for after we land, okay?" she told him, more than asked him.

He arched an eyebrow at her, a coy smile tugging at his mouth as he began to nod. And he slipped his arm around her instead, drawing her against his body as she settled her head against his shoulder. Glancing over at the baby who was still fiddling with his keys, his gaze fell to the mini kaleidoscope, a small chuckle escaping him when he realised that such an insignificant object meant the nearly world to him.

It was Calleigh who meant _the_ world.

**/EC/**

The landing was a smooth one, and, after having reclaimed Eric's keys, collected their luggage and retrieved the car, they made their way to the lab - having promised Horatio to call in once they were home.

Exiting the elevator, they stepped out into the hallway and headed for their lieutenant's office. He looked up when Calleigh knocked, nodded for them to sit down, and then greeted them with a smile. "So, was the conference worthwhile?" He watched as his two CSI's exchanged a private look, raising his eyebrows when he read the signals. Choosing to ignore what he saw, however, he patiently waited for a response.

"Extremely worthwhile," Calleigh answered, finally tearing her eyes away from Eric. "When do you want that report by?"

"As soon as you can, please," Horatio replied. "I need to present your findings at a department meeting next week. Several judges and district attorneys are going to be there, and I want to get across to them just how useful - and valid - Computer Forensics is. What about the new piece of equipment we're getting - did it look any good?"

"Yeah, it's a new crime scene sketching device that eliminates the need for human artistry. It saves a lot of time when trying to build up an image of a suspect. Is amazingly accurate, too," Eric explained, trying to remember the details. Actually, that was the only conference he really remembered. The Computer Forensics one had completely escaped him, and he knew Calleigh was going to have fun teasing him about it - especially considering the fact that he'd told her he hadn't needed a pen, would instead commit everything the professor said to memory.

And, judging from the small smile she had, it was clear that she was reading his mind. Coming to his rescue, she suggested, "How about I write up the computer report and Eric takes the new equipment?"

"Sounds good," Horatio nodded. "Anyway, you two should get going. I want you both fresh for the morning - it hasn't been the same without you." He waited until they'd reached the door before he opened his mouth to speak again. "Oh, and guys?" The two of them spun around, patiently waiting for him to continue, "I'm glad you enjoyed the conference so much. It seems like it really opened your eyes up to some things, allowed you to _test the boundaries_ of what we do."

Calleigh hesitated, not sure if there was a double meaning in there or not. Deciding it would be best to remain silent, however, she simply flashed him a smile and nodded, before following Eric out of the room.

"You think he knows?" he asked as soon as they'd made it some way down the corridor.

"About us?" Calleigh questioned. "Absolutely."

"Yeah, thought so," Eric breathed, pushing the button for the elevator.

As they waited for it to arrive, Calleigh remained silent, her mind trying to gain a perspective on the situation. The problem was that Horatio hadn't outright said anything, but, if she knew her boss as well as she thought she did, she was pretty sure that he'd given them his silent permission. There'd been a warning in it, too, however. Of course there had - relationships at work were dangerous. But she took comfort in the fact that the lieutenant had put his trust in them. And it was something that he wasn't going to regret.

She'd make sure of it.

_**/EC/**_

Sliding into the passenger seat of the Hummer, a small yawn escaped Calleigh as she reached for her seat-belt. Stifling it, she couldn't deny that she was looking forward to her own bed. Glancing over at Eric, however, she felt a wave of nostalgia when she realised that she wasn't going to see him first thing in the morning. She'd got so used to seeing him there, his hair messy and bed-shaped, the dark shadow that traced his jaw before he'd shaved...

But, perhaps it would be a good thing to spend some time apart. Besides, she had a report to write. And there was no chance that she'd be able to do it if Eric was around. None. At all.

"Where are you?" he suddenly called softly to her from the driving seat.

Breaking her trance, she turned to face him. "I was just thinking - " She hesitated, taking a moment to savour the feeling of being this open with him, "I'm going to miss you."

Keeping his eyes focused on the road, he reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Likewise," he smiled. "How about I swing by in the morning and give you a lift to work?"

"I would love that," she murmured quietly, slipping her fingers through his. As he made a left she caught sight of a hot air balloon flying overhead. "You ever been in one?" she asked, gesturing towards it.

"No, I've always wanted to, though."

"Me too," she smiled, considering all of the things that they could now do _together. _

Neither said anything after that, both of them knowing that words were no longer necessary. The comfortable silence was eventually broken, however, when Calleigh's house appeared through the windscreen. Coming to a halt, Eric jumped out of the car and headed for the trunk to get her luggage. He was just about to grab her case when his cell buzzed and he reached for it, reading the text that had just come through:

_Eric, you were right. I'm on my way to pick up Angela. We're going for a drink. Thanks, mate. Matt. _

He laughed and sent back, _Don't mention it, _before flipping his phone shut and reaching for Calleigh's case.

She walked slowly up her driveway, fiddling with her bag as she tried to locate her keys. And she'd just managed to slide them into the lock when Eric appeared behind her. Stepping through the door and into her hallway, he followed suit and placed her luggage down on the carpet. "So," he began nervously, a little unsure about what to do, "I guess I'll get going, then."

She smiled up at him, taking a step closer so that she could slide her arms around his neck. "Yeah, I suppose we should get started on those reports," she managed to whisper before he closed the distance, his lips finding hers to place a soft, lingering kiss on her mouth.

"Yeah," he eventually replied. He held her gaze for a moment, not wanting to let her go, until with a sigh, he finally released her from his grasp. "I'll call you in the morning."

She nodded, following him to the door; she'd just reached it when he suddenly spun around, a growl of frustration escaping him. "You know what? How about we forget the reports tonight?" He was pretty sure that there was no way in hell that he'd be able to think of anything but _her_, anyway.

"Eric," she smiled, arching an eyebrow.

Ignoring her, however, he closed the distance between them again. "I think - " He kissed her, "That we've - " Another kiss, "Done enough work - " A third kiss, "For one day." He pulled back to look at her, "Don't you?"

She stared back at him, a smile breaking through when she realised that she couldn't think of a single argument. And, more to the point, she didn't want to think of one. "You sill owe me dinner," she finally told him. "I believe you were going to cook for me in Quantico."

"I was," he grinned, his mouth hovering inches away from hers. "Are you sure you trust me enough not to burn anything, though?" he whispered, referring back to the potato incident.

Laughing, she nodded, stealing a lingering kiss before she pulled away to say, "This is all because you have no idea what on earth you're going to write about that artistry equipment, isn't it?"

"Naturally," he shot back, running a hand through her hair as he wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

"Well, of course," she teased, slipping away from him so she could shut the front door. Then turning back around, she gestured for him to follow her into the kitchen.

And as he did so, she couldn't help but notice how natural it felt. How amazing it was to have him here with her, in her home, about to cook dinner. Knowing that he loved her, that she loved him, that she could kiss him simply because she could, that she'd never felt... _this_ before. It was almost overwhelming.

But, despite everything that she was feeling right now, a single thought pushed its way through. And as it became the sole focus of her brain, she couldn't help but smile.

Yes, Quantico had been a God-send.

_Truly._

* * *

**- Fin -**

* * *

Okay, there we have it - the completed first story from this group of authors. If anyone is interested in taking part in the next one, let me know!


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